


Think of Him When We Kiss

by Fogsy_Feel



Series: Think Of Him While We Kiss [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adultery, Angst, Angst with a Happyish ending?, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Ron Weasley, Cheating, Complicated Relationships, Dark Draco Malfoy, Dark Ron Weasley, Draco Malfoy & Ron Weasley Friendship, Draco and Ron are kinda shitty people, Family Issues, Family Secrets, Fluff and Angst, Getting to Know Each Other, Happy Ending, Harry is missing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Molly is heartbroken and suffering, Ron loves his wife but he craves draco, Secret Relationship, Sexual Tension, Softer Than Expected, Soul Bond, Technically there are 2 secret relationships, They don't kill anyone but there horrible to the people they love, kind off, mentions of dementia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:07:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 37,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24404794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fogsy_Feel/pseuds/Fogsy_Feel
Summary: Cheating/Adultery/Affair/DramaRon Weasley's life has been good since the war. Tough, unreasonably hard but good. He had an amazingly smart wife, a job he could be proud of and a family stronger than ever.Then none other than Draco Malfoy showed up in a panic. Next thing he knew his best mate Harry was missing (probably kidnapped knowing his luck) and that Harry and Malfoy were engaged.More problems arise when Ron starts to notice how much time Hermione spends working, How much his mothers health is declining and how much he stops thinking of Malfoy as Malfoy...but as Draco.The cherry on top? Well things start to get more complicated when complex and terrifying feelings start to form between Ron and his best friends fiance—Ron bloomed. “I want to be with you.”Draco didn’t have time for disbelief.“I want to have you to hold. To love raw. I want us to go off together and live and never go to another funeral again. I want us to both decide to want each other. Heart to heart and wand to wand I only speak truth my dear.”
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy/Ron Weasley, Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Series: Think Of Him While We Kiss [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1869136
Comments: 43
Kudos: 89





	1. Start Of A Long Con

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron's in the garden, Draco shows up. Drama ensues.

If one was to walk down through Ottery St Catchpole, they would come across a line of trees, red or brown in autumn. Their shapes bulbous and round. To walk through these trees would lead one to a grassfield seemingly long as the eye could interpret. Beyond this field sat a home welcoming to many. On this particular afternoon a cozy sun lazed near the horizon and fell peacefully orange around the small plane.

The Burrow was swaying with meager energy. Of the people in this hidden place Ron Weasley was helping with Bill in the garden, humming along as they calmly worked through the eggplants and tomatoes, sorting through the ripe ones and the clearly fake wooden replicas planted by the gnomes. 

Formerly, Ron may have complained about his job placement for that afternoon. Gardening certainly wasn't an activity he particularly enjoyed doing when visiting for family dinners. This however he concluded, was in fact better than helping in the kitchen. In that moment he did not envy Percy in the slightest.  Ron also knew how much Molly had loved her garden before the war, and helping keep it in check made him brim with slight achievement. She was too frail to do it all on her own nowadays anyway.

The two men did not lift their heads up for a while longer. Not until a familiar crack echoed through the air. Ron’s face brightened as he eyed his wife who stood a tad slumped over in front of the Hollyhocks. The witch was dressed in her neat lime green healer robes and looked a little frazzled and tired.

“Mione, You made it! Let's get you inside and out of those robes for dinner.” Ron stood up and approached her, not noticing his foot squashing the beat he had been previously inspecting.

“Don't coddle me Ron.” She sighed and let herself be drawn towards the door.

He didn't take offense to her words. He knew how draining a job like hers was.  _ Hell  _ he was an Auror for bleeding sake, He understood the amount of mental cartewheels it took to work in jobs like theirs. Ron loved his stubborn wife and if he could help her a little more each day he would.

“Hermione, as your loving husband I think I deserve to coddle.. Just a little.”

“I  _ know. _ Rough day I guess. Neville visited you know?”

He whooshed out a breath as she changed out of her robes. “Was it Okay?”

She smiled solemnly. “Well yes. Implementing muggle PTSD therapy techniques into their program has really helped his parents move along! I'm sure conversation is too far into their future recovery.”

“Well then… What's wrong?”

She looked down. “I think we should take him out to drinks or something soon. He’s taking the process a little... _ bad _ ?”

Ron waited for her to continue.

“I don’t know. I've told him he should talk to a mind healer, a therapist might help. I mean soon he might  _ actually _ talk to them! That kind of change in such a past constant relationship can be hard… Wizards are so stubborn.”

“I’m sure it'll be fine dear. You're not on call right now, let's just enjoy the afternoon?” 

Hermione stilled and looked out the window. Ron took her sudden silence as his que to leave. Leave her to her thoughts.

Ron walked back down the stairs and sighed at the sight of the table. It wasn't hard to notice the extra plate set out, Molly had done the same many times after Fred had passed.

The only difference here was that Harry Potter was certainly  _ not  _ dead. In fact Ron had seen him that very morning. A brief flash of a scar and black hair in his cubicle but he had still  _ seen _ him. This was nearly the twelfth dinner Harry had missed, and everyone could see how much it broke Molly. How much it hurt Ron was easier to gloss over.

George raised an eyebrow around. “Reckon he'll show?”

“Maybe next time—think the blokes going through something. He’ll be back to normal in a month tops.” Ron shrugged and ignored the strain of his voice. His hands twitched for his wand. Percy, who was leaning near the oven nodded solemnly but stayed silent. 

Another crack was heard from outside. George Didn’t bother to look up from the stew, figuring Fluer or Ginny or anyone of the many people had arrived late.

Ron however, had noticed how much more quiet this crack had been. Almost like it had been further away.  _ Almost _ as if someone had apparated outside of the wards. Ron, not bothering to inform this to anyone, rushed outside to see who the visitor was.

When he saw blond platinum hair and pale grey eyes he almost roared in surprise. He quickly calmed himself, reminding himself that he was not in fact a teenager anymore and was a well functioning Auror in case Malfoy tried anything.

Approaching the figure, Ron kept his hand steady on his wand. “What are you doing here Malfoy?”

Malfoy looked around in a hurried motion but was careful not to try and rush past the wards. This was puzzling as Malfoy’s calm demeanour seemed to have been left somewhere else, instead leaving a troubled looking man.

“Weasley! Is he here?”

“Is who here? Wait no, answer the question!” 

“Who's here! I need to know Weasley!”

Percy, who had followed his younger brother outside stood still pondering. Unlike his brother he was willing to answer. Ron was about to yell again when Percy performed an almost roll call.

“Us, Bill, Fluer, Hermone, Mum and George.”

Ron swore. “Perce! You can't just go around telling criminals our information.”

“Why? He was acquitted, I swear sometimes you forget that the war ended.” 

Malfoy’s eyes had widened at the answer. A strange look past over his face. He chuckled slightly, sounding manic.”But—He has to be here! I've looked everywhere, he...he would have told me if he was anywhere else.”

Ron could see the blond man begin to heave and shake, if he looked closely he could almost notice how glossy his eyes seemed. 

Draco's legs were noodles, it seemed any second his knees would give into themselves.

Ron knew the signs well. An old mantra filled his head as he surveyed the man.  _ A panicking person was an unpredictable one.  _

Ron reluctantly held up his hands.

“Okay—Okay mate just breathe. Calmly  _ explain _ to me what's wrong and who you're looking for.”  _ So you can leave. _

Malfoy huffed, acting snobby even through his state “Harry!”

Ron’s ears perked up. Percy nodded as if it was a reasonable answer

“ _ Malfoy _ !” Behind them a scowling Hermione was trudging her way over, Fleur in tail. Her wand clutched tightly in her fist. “What is  _ he _ doing here?”

Ron looked between the group praying a fight wasn't within the near future.

“I'm not sure. Uh, Fer—Lad was talking about—”

“ _ Harry _ ,” Malfoy interrupted. “Harry’s missing.”

_ “Don't _ call him that,” Hermione hissed. “Wait what?”

“Harry Potter is  _ missing _ .”

Percy frowned. “What do you mean?”

“How do  _ you _ know?”

“Malfoy—Explain!”

_ Sometimes _ Ron wished his curious wife would leave the questions for the qualified Law Enforcement Official.

Malfoy was quiet for a moment. It seemed panic could not settle his dislike of Hermione. “We were supposed to meet tonight! He didn’t show and I couldn't find him. Harry couldn’t not show! It was important!”

Ron's head spun. “Why were you and him even in contact?”

“Well— he was consulting me on a case… dark magic stuff and he wanted insight—Look! It was important okay, he wouldn't bail without a letter or—or something!” Grey eyes whizzed left to right.

Hermione was about to shoot out another question but Ron interfered. “ _ Okay!  _ Malfoy when was the last time you saw him?”

“This morning.”

Ron nodded pretending to understand. “What was he doing exactly?”

“He was re-reading some files, something about an illegal shipment of foreign wands? Is that what you wanna hear? I'm telling you he’s gone!”

Ron sucked in quickly. He remembered being the one to hand Harry those extensive files. Ron wasn’t sure what Malfoy's intentions were but he was more and more pulled as he heard the man speak. 

Fleur spoke up. “I think we should contact ze aurors. A Check up on Grimald wouldn't do any harm. Zey would probably find something if zere ‘ad been a fight.”

Hermione nodded. “ _ Yes _ —Yes! I’ll contact Shaklebolt immediately and sort this all out.” She raised her wand.

Ron spoke up. “Hermione, wait!” But before half of his words had been spoken there was already a loud crack thrumming through his ears. She was gone. 

Malfoy smirked a little, feeling a tad more stable. “You'd think she’d just send an owl or something.”

Ron glared at the blond man. His arm shot out firmly and pointed to the Burrow. “Get inside.”

Mafloy’s smile dropped and Ron's began. “What?”

“Blimey, you heard me. Fun fact. Half of all crimes reported are actually called in by the perpetrators.” 

Malfoy shook his head but carefully walked through the wards. “I call bullshite on that.”

Fleur huffed. “You would.”

Ron was careful to escort Malfoy towards the house. He wasn't exactly the most comfortable with the idea that the man who was responsible for his brothers attack and many other things was to be in their home. At the very least he could keep an eye on him.

When they walked past the garden Bill was able to keep a surprised expression off his face. He furrowed his eyebrows and left his face cold and uncaring. 

Entering the kitchen was a little more dramatic.

George was the first to notice the unexpected visitor. “Blimey! What's he doing here?”

Molly was in the kitchen, but when her eyes glazed over the group she made no sound of surprise. Ron sighed, he’d have to deal with his mother's dissociation later.

He was glad Ginny had not come tonight, he was sure if she had more wands would be lifted.

Ron groaned. “According to Ferret Face Harry’s missing. Mione’s contacting the office to check out his place.”

Malfoy stood rigid. “Call me that again and i’ll hex you.”

“We're keeping him here so he doesn’t hex anyone.”

Malfoy grinned. “I don't think anyone is important? Yes I'm quite sure no one would care if I hexed you.”

Ron was losing his patience. there was a familiar sense of looming dread weaving its way into his stomach. A dark sting of doubt was quick to remind himself of Hogwarts and all the bad Malfoy had done there.

“Shut up Malfoy! You have a lot of explaining to do, like—Like why were you meeting up with my best mate? And why were you  _ so _ sure that it wasn't like him to show? Because he sure as hell hasn't been showing up here!”

Malfoy tried to ignore the small whimper that came out of the older Weasley's mouth.

“Maybe Weasely—Harry likes spending his time more with me. Maybe We work better than his  _ actual _ partner!”

Ron laughed mockingly. ”Why don't I  _ believe _ that.”

They stood in that silent kitchen for an uncomfortable amount of time. The food was getting cold yet only Molly would eat. 

Ron couldn't help but notice how frazzled Malfoy looked. Ron will admit that he’d always imagined Malfoy with the signature slicked back heavily gelled hair like in first year. Today though? It was messy and fell in front of his tired eyes.Even the posh robes he assumed Malfoy would be more comfortable in had been left for something else. Ron recognised a clash of dress shoes, Woollen trousers and a black V-neck were not something he ever pictured the man wearing. He was a tad mad that Malfoy seemed to be able to pull it off without him noticing for so long.

He was glad however to notice that He still had a few good inches over the blond git. Somehow being taller made him feel warmer and proud. 

Malfoy raised an eyebrow, noticing Ron’s gaze. Ron just rolled his eyes and glared out the window, waiting for his wife.

In almost an instant Kingsley and Hermione stood inside the cramped kitchen with worried eyes. This time no one's eyes were on Malfoy.

Kingsley opened his mouth but Hermione answered the unspoken question.

“His wand! We found his wand rolled under the table! I didn’t believe it but we looked and couldn't find Kreacher anywhere!”

Shaklebolt spoke. “Evans and Robberts are over there now looking for more but it seems obvious what happened. We need to look some more but if we can't find him within the next few hours we’ll need to start standard procedure.”

Hermione pointed at Malfoy. “What about  _ him _ ?”

“Mr Malfoy, I’m hoping we could take you into questioning? For the time being it is of course entirely optional but as you're our only loose thread we would like to know the exact relationship between you and Mr Potter.” Kingsley said.

Malfoy nodded respectfully. “I expected nothing less. Under veritaserum I assume?”

“If you would be willing to sign the consent form then yes.”

“Right then.”

Ron raised his hand. “Sir? Would it be alright if i could be there for the interview? I'm the closest to Harry—I'd know if he was lying about a detail not public knowledge.”

“You sure Ron? This is all extremely new and I wouldn't want you to get too emotionally involved.”

“With all due respect sir, We are talking about  _ Harry Bleedn’ Potter _ . Everyone will be emotionally invested. I really believe I could be useful for this.”

His superior thought for a moment 

“Very Well Ron.”

Malfoy Grunted.  _ I guess it’s better than getting immediately arrested again. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The funny thing is I've always preferred Drarry in fics but apparently I'm a slut for drama so the only type of actual plot I can come up with is this. Romance is overrated i'm here for betrayal.


	2. The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth about Harry's and Draco's relationship. Ron finds himself defending Draco?

Malfoy was soon quickly escorted home by Kingsley, If Ron was a different person he might have argued to have the questions that night, but the focused look on his superior's face kept his lips zipped tight.

He did however follow the two outside for their apparition. Ron let himself speak as they were about to leave.

“Malfoy, you better show tomorrow.” He warned.

“I'm not an idiot Weasley, Don't miss my face too much.” His tone was cocky but his face looked slightly sickly, which was in all honestly not far from his _‘normal’_ deathly pale.

The rest of the night passed by rather quickly. Ron helped put Molly to bed and waved his siblings and Fleur goodbye as they left, promising to contact them when he knew more about Harry.

Hermione’s upset face flashed through his mind many times and he was glad when they entered their apartment later on. The place was warm and filled with all sorts of bookshelves and muggle paintings that were fashioned to keep his wife comfortable and relaxed. He frowned when instead of heading for the bedroom or fridge she approached a bookshelf.

“Hermione, please. You need to go to bed.” 

“Five more Minutes.” she argued.

He replied. “Now is not the time babe. You _need_ rest.”

Hermione quickly turned around and faced him with a displeased expression he’d seen many times before. “Ron! I saw his house! Harry’s in trouble. There must be a locating spell or something here. We have to help him.”

Ron exhaled. “Hermione… I understand but you're not an Auror.”

She opened her mouth but he continued. “—And, if you even can help. You can't while this is exhausted. You of all people know that.”

She closed her eyes and sighed. “I know… I _know_. I just, I can't have him not come home. I’m tired of seeing him hurt.” Tears filled her sad eyes. Highlighting her cheeks with a familiar pain.

Ron reached out and embraced his wife. The hug was stiff and uncomfortable as she stood arms by her side and body unmoving but it helped ease his thoughts nonetheless. It helped him ignore the dark circles under her eyes and how empty the bed felt without her. 

Then _She was quiet again._ Ron ignored his shaky breaths as he helped here move down the hall to their bed. He wasn't sure if he had even said goodnight or not.

* * *

He wasn't surprised the next morning when he woke up alone. He figured she would be either at work again or looking for something that could help with the current situation. Ron groaned into the pillow before getting up. His stiff work robes still clung to his body and made him feel unclean. Ron spent extra time in the shower, collecting his thoughts while scrubbing along his freckled skin. 

Ron can admit that he used to be jealous of his best friend, and very selfish in his treatment of Harry in the past. But now nearly ten years later? He can’t for the life of him think why he ever thought Harry had it better. In fact, _even if Harry would sock him for it_ he kind of pitied the man. It almost felt like the world was out to get him. And again it was Ron’s job to help save him.

Walking into the department that morning was definitely a different type of shite show that day. The small cubicles had almost been abandoned for the Aurors were all standing in the halls and around the department arguing and shouting orders at each other, it seemed news of Harry’s disappearance had spread. Looking at his fellow colleagues Ron felt the dark pit in his stomach grow. If this was how they were acting it seemed this would be more serious than he initially thought.

“Ron! Thank christ you're here.” Kingsley deflated with relief when he saw the red head.

“Sir? What's happening here?” He asked.

“Well, some of the guys have been working all night and the fact they've found nothing new has put the whole department into a panic. Can’t blame them, hard not to get emotional when it’s the ‘chosen one’ I suppose” Shaklebolt paused to eye the Aurors again, “I’m hoping Mr Malfoy's interview will lead to something otherwise…”

Ron nodded. “Even if I don't like the man he’s our best bet.” _more like cant stand but ok._

Kingsley turned his head back “Ron, can I ask why you don't seem too emotional about this?” 

The red head eyed him curiously. “Um. Because he’s not dead.”

‘What?”

“Like you said Sir, He’s Harry Potter. If someone had killed him we’d know. An idiot braggin or a ransom. Killing the chosen one isn’t something to be kept quiet. Knowing from experience Sir, people like to boast when they kill Harry.”

Kingley’s eyes were a little wide as he agreed. “Well, yes that makes sense. I assume that’s what makes you feel better then?”

“It's not ‘bout feeling better Sir. If someone has Harry and doesn't want him dead then I can only assume he’s wanted for something far worse. Love potions, torture, blood rituals come to mind. Acting rash won’t keep him safe.”

“Jesus. I think we should go set up the interrogation room.”

* * *

Malfoy arrived being escorted by two Aurors. “I assume you treat all willing interviewee’s with personal escorts.”

“You know full well it’s to keep you away from the reporters.” Ron rolled his eyes.

Malfoy eyed the room though there wasn't much to see. “You have the consent forms?”

Kingley nodded and passed them over the table. Malfoy presumably read through them though Ron was certain he would have signed those same forms before. After signing his name they waited for Kinglsey to Accio the Veritaserum.

When the small bottle appeared on the table before Malfoy the blonde immediately grabbed it and swallowed it in one swig. Afterwards he scrunched his face up in disgust. “ _Bleh._ I hate that stuff.”

Shaklebolt read through his files before looking back up. “Okay I’ll start this nice and simple. Mr Malfoy, How did you and Mr Potter get into recent contact and when?”

“About a year ago he approached me about a case. He figured I would be the only person who knows about dark magic that isn't in Azkaban and would be willing to talk to him.” He replied.

Ron was sceptic. “Why would you be willing to talk to him, you hate each other.”

“No we dont!” The truth serum shining through. “I owed him a favour anyway. You don't deny a _savior_ Weasley.”

Kingley let his quill write their words down before asking. “Mr Malfoy, That was over a year ago. Why were you and Harry still in contact.”

“He just kept asking for things. And I never really tried to deny him.”

“Why were you and Harry supposed to meet up last night?” Ron questioned.

Malfoy’s face twitched. A telltale sign he wanted to lie. The Aurors interest perked as the man in front of them moved conflicted. Then the words came out, like drums in the night.

“We were going on a...D— _Date._ ”

“What...What!” Ron's composure fell in surprise. _Was the potion not working?_ That can’t be it, Malfoy was clearly trying to lie. Ron didn’t understand and was utterly dumbstruck.

Kingley was much the same though he kept himself more composed. “Well, was this date instigated by you?”

“No.”

“Was it going to be the first?”

“N—No.”

“Did you _trick_ him with a love potion?” Ron blurted.

Malfoy had the gall to look offended. “What! Of course not. Harry instigated everything. I told you!”

Kingsley interfered. “Mr Malfoy, To clear things up. What is the nature of you and Mr Potters… _Relationship?_ ”

Malfoy tugged on his lip with straight teeth. Ron almost yelled at him for it. “We—we're _Engaged_ , He proposed last fall.” His eyes wavered.

The rest of the interview was insanely awkward. Ron didn't have the stomach to ask anymore questions and let his superior lead the interview. Everything else was boring anyway, Confirming times and locations and that _Draco Malfoy_ and _Harry Potter_ were in some sort of… Relationship.

No not some sort. They were Engaged, prepared for marriage, Dracos words and ring proved it. Ron didn't know if he was mad because it was Malfoy, Ferret face, or because he had to find out during an interview under truth serum. The news felt somehow _dirty_ , tainted by circumstances. 

Deep down Ron could connect the dots. The school obsessions, the petty rivalry, the heroic acts. But Ron _didn’t want to_ . He then promised himself that If—when they found Harry he would punch the stubborn git for keeping something this important away from his _supposed_ best mate.

And back were the insecurities, plaguing his mind like ink in water. Spreading through him without the intent to stop. Why wouldn’t Harry tell him? Does everyone else Know? No _t_ _hey can't_ —but what if? Does Harry not trust him? Ron raged at the thought, _sure_ he’d question Harry’s judgement to choose _Malfoy_ but he’s a grown man. They’d _live_.

Then the interview was about to come to a close. “Any more questions Ron?” Kingley asked.

Ron shook himself out of silence, he could see Malfoys smug look at his discomfort. “Yeah. Yeah—How many of your lot know about you and… Him?”

“My lot?”

He rolled his eyes, Malfoy doesn't have the right to be offended by that statement, “Your family, friends, anyone?”

Surprisingly Malfoy pondered this for a moment. “I'm not sure. My lot are more conniving

than yours, I'm sure if they wanted to know they would have found ways. We were open but I suspect my mother to have figured it out. Anyone else is a mystery.”

“Well that’s useful isn't it.” Ron’s voice dripped in sarcasm.

“At least i'm trying Weasley! I want him home too!” Malfoy hissed.

“I _think_ that’s enough for the day! I’ll call the Aurors in to escort you home Mr Malfoy.” Kingley said.

“No I’ll do it.” Ron insisted as he and Malfoy had their own private staring contest

“I don't think that’s a good idea...”

“No, let him. We're both adults after all. What's the worst that can happen?” Malfoy replied.

Kingley sighed. “Right then, just make sure no one sees you together. Cant have the prophet get a hold of this before we want to.”

Both men silently walked out of the room and towards the apparition dock. Ron begrudgingly held out his arm for Malfoy to grab. He sneered, “Lead the way Weasley.” For a moment Ron wondered why he even offered but soon they had apparated right inside the Burrow.

Malfoy quickly noticed where they had arrived and did not look happy. His eyebrows up high as he vocalized his distress. “Why are we here? What's going on!”

Ron ignored his words as he glared back. “Has the Veritaserum worn off?”

“Um yes why?”

“Because I want to ask you this while you can still deny it.” He took a breath before continuing. “Do you love him?”

Malfoy was quick to answer this time. “With all my heart.”

Nodding slightly Ron looked around the Burrow, thankfully no one was here. Quickly he went over to a cupboard holding multiple papers and pens Harry had bought them for christmas. Malfoy tilted his head as he watched Ron quickly write out messages on each piece of parchment. “What are you doing?”

Ron approached the window and called out for his dad's owl with a loud wolf whistle. When the bird arrived he quickly tied the small letters to the bird, he replied when he saw it fly off into the distance. “I’m calling the family here.”

“Wh—WHY?” Malfoy shouted, confusion covering his features.

Ron leaned against the wall and folded his arms. “Because _you_ have a lot of explaining to do for them. We are his family! They deserve to hear this if not from him then form you.”

Malfoy looked as if he’d eaten a lemon. He nervously swished his fringe away. Even so Ron continued. “—And. You will apologise to each and everyone one of them for all the bad things you did. Harry may have forgiven you but you have no place here if you can’t prove you've changed.”

“Okay.”

“—And, wait what?”

Malfoy agreed. “You're right. I hate to say it but it’s true. And I should have apologised a long time ago. I’m sorry it took me to be with Harry and nearly ten years to do it.”

Ron grunted. “Apologising for not apologising isn't a proper apology.”

“Oh shut it, let me have a moment before one of your lot tries to kill me.”

He almost laughed at that, but for some reason it wasn’t at the idea of Malfoy getting murdered.

“I’m sorry, For what i was like in school… and the war. I was on the wrong side and let jealousy and prejudice guide my judgement. I take full responsibility for my actions.”

He did laugh at that. “What kind of scripted bullshite was that?”

“Hey! I’ve thought about this a lot, there is an art to this kind of thing.”

“Well Malfoy, you might want to work harder on it, cause ‘Mione just arrived.”

The blond’s face fell. “Fuck.”

* * *

Ron could say, in Malfoys defence. This was a bit of a shite show for apologies. As soon as Hermione arrived George, Percy, Arthur and Bill had shown up not a minute later.

After they had seen Draco the shouting was soon to follow. Most of it wasn’t directed at anyone in particular but a lot of worried theories about who had taken Harry and why Malfoy was there had started to be thrown about. 

Malfoy had walked into the lion's den.

Ron’s Gryffindor nature got the best of him as he decided to help the bloke, only a little.

“OKAY! Everyone quiet down! Mal—Draco has something very _important_ to tell you all.” He bellowed

Hermione sent her husband a questioning glare but Ron kept his eyes on Malfoy, urging him to speak.

Malfoy swallowed and his Adam's apple bobbed nervously. “Uh—I think it necessary to inform you all, even under dire circumstances—”

“ _Malfoy_ ” Ron spoke a non vocalised reminder.

“Oh Okay!” The Man lifted up his hand to show his engagement ring. “Me and Harry Potter have been engaged for about six months. _happy_?”

A chorus of gasps and _What's_ echoed through the room.

“He’s lying.” Hermione confidently assumed.

“He’s unfortunately not.” Ron wondered when he’d decided to become Malfoy's defender.

More questioning eyes fell on him. “We interviewed him with truth serum today, remember?”

George rubbed his eyes. “This makes no sense.”

“You got that right.”

Hermione accusingly pointed at Malfoy. “Love Potion! Imperius! Anything! There is no logical reason why Harry would choose a—A misogynistic, discriminatory death eater!”

Ron was about to interfere when Malfoy spoke up.

“I—I Honestly agree with you. I don't know why, I never really tried to be better without his help, I'm not convinced I really deserved it but… I'm sorry for how I treated you during school. I'm sorry for all the bad I did before and during the war. Bill… I thoroughly apologise for letting the death eaters into the school. I'm so—So sorry for not being able to apologise without the push of outside forces. But I love Harry. I want him home and I know he’d want us all to be a part of his life.”

Hermione looked at Ron, searching for something he couldn't give.

“I don't forgive him but I can’t not believe him. He’s still a git and I'm not sure he’s changed but I have to believe he has.”

Hermione looked around the room. Ron noticed how the rest of his family was surprisingly silent, pondering the blond man’s words. Percy was unsurprisingly the only one who looked unaffected by the recent news. Arthur rubbed Georges shoulders before nervously glancing back in forth between his youngest son and a man who was an bared an extreme resemblance to his mother.

Malfoy, again lost in the situation, looked at Ron. He sighed and spoke. “I’m taking him home. No one knows about this so… keep quiet?”

This time George chuckled though it held no humour. “Blimey stop being an Auror for a second, just go. We’ll be fine.”

This time Malfoy was quick to grab Ron’s arm as he apparated them both to his residence.

* * *

Malfoy's home was surprisingly small. It was an old town home outside the city. In fact, it seemed to be in an entirely muggle neighbourhood. Ron couldn't sense an inch of magic something from anywhere besides the two wizards. The home was almost cottage like, with a humble garden and white picket fence.

Malfoy huffed. “Don’t stare, or you'll go cross eyed. this is the best one can get when you can’t legally buy magical property.”

Ron pondered this. “You aren't scared without magical protection?”

“I never said I didn't have security. Harry charmed the fence to only let a few people through… though I assume he’d have made you and Granger an exception.” He remarked.

Even so Ron decided not to push his luck. “Look Malfoy, I meant what I said back there. I don’t forgive you. Maybe one day I'll feel differently but right now my biggest priority is finding Harry.”

“I don't care what you or your family think about me, I know Harry does but I couldn't care less. Just— Just find him ok?”

After that all he could do was nod and watch the blond enter his house. Ron was glad Draco never glanced back, otherwise he would have noticed his blatant staring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh if only the apologies would stop them from the future road of betrayal they'll walk upon. Oh the drama


	3. The Media Ruins The Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron does his job, Molly becomes plot relevant without actually speaking. The Prophets a problem again and another old school friend comes into play.

Ron was only just realising how particularity shite his week had really been. It had only been two days after Harry's disappearance that Shaklebolt had instructed Ron to hand him a case report for the public. Ron’s personal opinion on telling the wizarding media about the disappearance was predictable to say the least. He hadn’t trusted the media since fourth year. But Shaklebolt insisted and soon the story was on the front page.

_Where Is Harry Potter? Vanished Saviour? Devastating Disappearance._

It was early days, but Ron knew the longer it took to find him the sooner the demand would turn on the Ministry. An honestly Ron wouldn't blame them. His colleagues in their panic hadn't bothered to search for fingerprints until after nearly twenty different Aurors had checked Grimmauld place. 

The evidence found was a whole other conk out. The only conclusion that could be drawn was that someone had taken Harry by surprise and knocked his wand out of the way before taking the man. Kingsley figured that the perpetrator would have had to be larger than Harry in order to overpower him physically. Ron reckoned it wasn't hard to be bigger than Harry.

Not to mention the abundance of statements under truth serum. Ron wasn't surprised when he and the rest of his family had been asked for interviews. Ginny had been pretty offended but that was to be expected. Ron had been personally allowed to look through the statements to see if he could figure more out. He hadn't any time to even see the scene of the crime.

The afternoon after the first report hit the paper was when he was called to St Mungo’s emergency department for his mother.

Walking in a young attractive male healer he didn’t recognise rushed over to him. “Mr Weasley! Right this way.”

“ _What happened_?”

“Well. Uhh—Sir, your father brought her in. She seems to have fainted… let me show you.”

Molly laid on a small hospital bed. Her Face was pale and red frizzy hair was unkempt. Arthur held her hand from the bedside chair. Ron could see the tired worry Arthur kept behind his eyes.

“Dad?”

“The paper. She was reading the paper.” He droned.

The young healer went on. “She seems to be suffering from a sort of… emotional exhaustion. Were also noticing early signs of dementia. Forgetfulness. We can only assume the recent news only just got to her.” 

Ron rubbed his temple. "Well, what can we do for her.”

Ron easily noticed the anxiety in the healer's bright blue eye's. “Well Sir… Dementia and cognitive failures are much rarer in wizards but much more potent. Magic has a way of getting confused when dealing with something as complex as a human brain. Magical actions aren’t usually affected but memory and information has a hard time getting through.”

“So we can’t do anything?” Arthur's face fell.

“She's here because of grief, Sirs. I'm saying this because I'm afraid she may fall in and out of when and when she doesn’t remember Harry Potter's disappearance. 

Unfortunately there is no magical nor muggle treatment for cognitive decline. These things happen with human age I'm afraid. Wizards may live longer but again, Brain issues are always hard to treat. We’ll try our best...” The healer uncomfortably relayed.

Ron nodded. “Please, leave us a moment.”

Going back home that night was a different kind of nightmare. His mother, she was sick. Ill with a disease no one could treat. Was it too hard to want comfort?

His wife and him sat at the dinner table that night in profound silence.

Hermione spoke first. Whispering a few still words. “I’m sorry Ron. Harry and now Molly.”

Ron forced a smile while glaring at the potatoes. “Well, at least I know you're in Mungos, near her just in case.”

“Ron, I don’t work in the Emergency department. You know that.”

“Yeah. but you'll be close. Right?”

She pursed her lips. “No, there’s a very small chance I'll be around there.”

He huffed and soon the room was silent again.

* * *

now Ron was working. Tirelessly trying to find his best mate before his world fell apart.

But for the life of him, he couldn't find his copy of Malfoy’s interview. Ron wanted to remember if Malfoy had mentioned any of his side knowing about Harry. 

The more Ron worked on the case. The more Ron worked on the case the more he had to come to terms with Harry’s secret life. It seemed every time Harry missed a dinner he was with Malfoy. Every time he came into work late because of a long night… _Malfoy_.

“Hey! Kingsley, you wouldn't have my copy of Malfoy’s statement would you?” Ron questioned as he walked into the office.

Immediately he could see a seasoned look of apprehension and restlessness struck upon Shaklebolt’s face.

His superior officer sat at his desk with his head listening into a muggle landline telephone. His eyebrows shot up as he listened to the words coming through. Every few seconds Kingsley mumbled a _yeah_ or _uh-huh_ every few seconds and Ron was almost sure he was holding it the wrong way.

“Kingsley?” He queried when the man put the phone down.

“Ron! Diagon alley, there's a situation with Mr Malfoy.”

Ron didn’t need any more words before he was rushing to the Apparition deck with Kingsley.

His feet started to ache as he appeared outside his brother's shop. It was easy to see what the issue was. A myriad of witches and wizards seemed to aggravate and convulse in a crowd of movement and shouting. 

“ _Murder_!” a voice nearby roared

“ _Go back to Azkaban!_ ”

“ _Where’s Harry Death Eater_!”

Ron was starting to understand the situation. Ron pressed through the crowd.

“Move! Auror passing!” his commands fell on deaf ears.

Ron started shouting multiple _Rictusempra_ and _Incarcerous_ trying to dismantle the crowd. Try as he might it wasn't working very well. 

So he did something nobody else in the crowd was doing.

He called for Malfoy with _his_ name. Ron pointed his wand to his throat.

“Draco!—DRACO!”

Listening closely he could hear a frightened voice near Olivanders. “ _Ron?_ ”

With Ron’s yelling and the appearance of more Aurors the crowd was starting to dissipate. As that happened Ron could see the man he was looking for. Malfoy was shaken and Ron could see a familiar fear stricken face.

There was a shield charm around him that was on the verge of breaking down.

Mafloy remarked to the Auror. “I—I can't apparate!”

“Don't try! Let me get you to St Mungo—”

“No! Take...take me _home._ ” Malfoy sounded desperate and pleading in his broken voice. Ron tried to stop his pitying thoughts. Then again, wouldn’t they be family soon? He shuddered at the thought.

“Okay, take my hand.” Ron his out and before they knew it Ron was standing in a hallway he had only seen of a glimpse of before. Malfoy’s house.

Malfoy breathed harshly. Relief painted his sharp features. His hand was sweaty and shaking and… _engulfed_ by Ron's? His bony fingers fit for chess or piano seemed almost dainty when held by another. Elegant even in panic. Then Ron saw the _ring_ and stepped away.

“Stupid papers, can’t even walks down—” Malfoy muttered gently to himself.

“Malfoy?” Ron shook his head in confusion. “What _exactly_ was that about?”

The man struck an offended stance. “What are you blaming me for!”

Ron sighed. “I'm not blaming anyone. I was just called in to settle things, you were in distress.”

Malfoy huffed. “I could have handled it, _Weasley_.”

He almost laughed. “Oh i'm sure, just answer the question ya’ git”

“ _Oh_ you should know well by now _Auror_ , Seeing as my entire bloody interview is in the Prophet!”

Ron was taken aback. “ _What_?”

“Oh yes, feign your innocence! Why is it the one day I decide to leave my hovel this happens!” Malfoy dramatically raised his arms into the air and walked towards his living room.

“The—The entire statement… shite.” Ron did not like this news. It could put a lot of things in jeopardy, the amount of people who’d be convinced Draco was in the wrong was already proven to be the majority. Harry wouldn't like this.

Malfoy snickered as he plopped himself down on the sofa “Shite indeed.”

Ron couldn't help himself but sit down as well. Many thoughts crossed his mind as he assessed their current _current_ predicament.

“Something always has to go wrong. One day… just one day.”

“You got that right Weasley.”

Ron glared at Malfoy. “I’m honestly not sure if you're being sarcastic or not.”

Malfoy crunched his face. “I _can_ be sincere, you know. This affects me more than you.”

He laughed at that. “I'm sure your sarcasm is _very_ sincere Malfoy.”

Malfoy crossed his arms. Ron could draw a resemblance between Draco and when Teddy had been a toddler. Then again they were related… Malfoy had seemed to burst through the eerie aspect of Ron’s shite show of a life.

Ron groaned. “Jesus I need to find Harry.”

“You only just realised this?”

He thought for a moment. “Malfoy. I need to interview your lot.”

Malfoy’s back straightened. “...Why?”

“I really need to find and or rule all suspects, that includes his… _Fiance's_ family and friends.”

“You think they did it? Just because of our past!”

Ron huffed. “Blimey don't make this personal. I’d honestly go for a tea or dinner. An interrogation isn’t needed unless I think they're lying.”

Mafloy thought about this for a moment. “Right. I'm sure my Mother wouldn’t be too mad if I bought an Auror for dinner. Even after today's news.”

“Don't be a git.”

“No, I'm serious.”

Ron also took a moment to be a toddler. “Oh. but—I don't want to have dinner with your mum…”

Malfoy looked confused. “But you just said—”

“No… Yeah I did. Okay fine, though you better hope you're mum ain't the culprit.”

Mafloy visibly found humour in Ron’s statement. “My Mother? She doesn't have a murderous bone in her body.”

Ron couldn’t tell if he was lying or not. “Okay, Owl me the date.” Ron tried to stop his visible apprehension but the grin on the blonds face told him it showed.

“Yes, Weasley. Go on. Leave the terrorised man alone.”

Ron halted at the door. “Do you—Want me to stay?”

Malfoy blubbered. “What, No! Ju—just go.”

* * *

Ron never saw himself as a calm person. Of course his job needed him to portray a certain professional side but when he was younger, he always envisioned him and Harry being sick partner Aurors fighting crime together. These day’s Ron wondered why they even wanted to work for the ministry. It’s not like that place ever held any good memories or was helpful in any way. Ron was almost convinced that if Harry wasn’t missing he’d quit. 

What would he do though? Ron didn’t know. Maybe that’s why he can’t leave. Of course that and the fact that Hermione would drag him through the mud if he quit without a plan. 

And just _maybe_ , a small part of Ron couldn’t stand his wife getting to one upping him again. A petty horrible part of him liked that Aurors get paid more than healers.

Ron glanced at the paper in his hand. The top story of the day in bold letter grabbing for attention.

_Chosen One and Death Eater? Sinister or Sweet?_

Ron walked into the busy office. Levitating papers and busy writers occupied the building. The inside stretched for as far as he could see and in the distance a large magical printing machine was quickly making papers and being picked up by a new owl a minute.

He’d only ever been in this building a few times, usually to bribe some lowlife reporter to keep a story silent. Today he was heading over to the large office that looked over most of the building. 

The door was made of marble and held a sign that would change between the words _Chief Editor_ and _Parvati Patil._

Ron knocked on the door and soon enough it swiftly swung open.

Parvati who was turned away called out. “Come in Eliza.”

Ron rolled his eyes and walked in. “Not Eliza Patil.”

She looked up from her desk, unimpressed eyes fell upon him. 

“Oh, it's you.”

“Good to see you too.”

“What's this ‘bout then? I'm a very busy woman, Ronald. I Haven't got all day.”

Ron grinned at that. “I'm sure you can make time” He laid down the prophet on the table.

She glanced over the title before looking back up. “I don't follow.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Really? Because It seems to me that the entire front page is a document from the ministry.”

Parvati crossed her arms. “And…”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, I'm just trying to figure out how a stolen legal document got into your writer's hands when… I'm pretty sure you're the only reporter that has been to my desk.”

“I’m not a reporter anymore Ron.”

“Yet it’s still in the paper? I’m not in the mood to argue so I’m either going to take you in… or the reporter that wrote the article?” He taunted.

Paravti pursed her lips. “Bloody git. Look i'm not an idiot alright. I knew you or some other Auror would be coming in the moment the story went public. _Predictably_ you would blame my writers, so of course I looked into it.” 

Ron tilted his head urging her to continue.

Parvati opened her desk and levitated an envelope over to him. Before he could grab it she warned him.”Don't touch! This was on my desk this morning, I had Eliza photograph the document but no one touched it. I could tell you under Veritaserum that I didn't steal your document or make this letter.”

Ron pulled out some gloves from his robes and plucked the letter out of the air. Immediately he noticed the chicken scratch handwriting on the envelope, _This is real-To be published._

The vulgar writing struck Ron as odd, If Parvati didn’t steal this then was it the same person that took Harry? Was the writing purposely dumbed down? He had many questions and not enough time to ponder them. Looking inside the envelope he saw none other than the transcript of Malfoy’s interview.

“Parvati, If you didn’t steal this… are you telling me someone dropped this on your desk and you just did what they asked?”

She shrugged. “Well the document seems legitimate and your here about is so...yes.”

He put the envelope in a plastic bag, it would have to go for testing later. “Well, you're not off the hook yet. I’m sure Kingsley will be asking for a formal statement from you and your assistant.”

Parvati looked down at her notepad “Yes yes Ronald. I’m sure he’s not the only one who wants an interview though. I'm sure the public would love to hear you opinion about the whole _Malfoy_ thing. I know none of us really got on with him.”

Ron laughed as he got up to leave. “And she says she’s _not_ a reporter anymore. Sorry mate but I don't do interviews on the job… or ever.”

Parvati shouted as he went through the door. “You're no fun!”

Ron tried to remember which twin he’d taken to the yule ball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like there seems like a lot of character bashing but that's just the corrupt morals coming into play. Harry is mentioned at least 16 times per chapter and hasn't even been in any scene. That protagonist magic seeping through.


	4. No Telling What Will Come Of This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner, Robes, Wine and...Romance?

Finding an eagle owl pecking _his_ nose was not the way Ron imagined waking up the next morning. Ron was taken aback for a moment as he felt his dreams slip from him like distant memory. A pleasant but underline guilty feeling enveloped him although he couldn't explain what for. All he _could_ manage to picture were thin hands roaming and blissful white before his eyes widened open in pain

The owl’s unimpressed face left Ron spending almost a full three minutes in their own personal _half sleepy_ staring contest. Then the owl pecked again.

“AHH! Bloody hell— _shoo_!” Ron waved around.

The owl flapped about for a bit before landing near the end of the bed again. It’s feathers puffed out as it looked away and held out it’s leg. Said leg had a neatly folded piece of parchment tied to it in brown regal string.

Ron cursed whoever sent the damn bird as he untied the parchment and began to read the letter. 

_Dear Ronald Bilius Weasley_

_First of all, what kind of parent names two of their children Bill? Then again my family is known for their love of constellations. Speaking of parents I have organised a dinner at my house for tonight at 8:00. My Mother will be there and I presume you will be too as you did agree. If this doesn't suit you then tough shit. Dress in your best robes._

_—DM_

It took Ron three re-reads for him to finally understand the letter. This partly because of the loopy cursive and partly because of the matter of the facts. He was glad his wife had already gone off, he’s sure she wouldn’t approve of his dinner plans. He rolled his eyes at the thought, _he_ doesn't _approve_ of her always running off to a library on her days off but _she_ doesn’t listen to his complaints.

After Ron had put the letter down the owl seemed satisfied and quickly flew out of the open bedroom window. The fact it left so quickly meant that Malfoy didn’t expect a response. The git probably expected him to drop all his plans for a dinner with the Malfoys.

Ron was tempted not to go. Really tempted to book a nice table for him and his wife and forget about their problems for an evening. But Hermione wouldn't agree and this dinner could be useful. He wasn’t sure how to feel about these new developments.

He lifted himself out of bed before starting what he was predicting to be a bad day.

* * *

Ginny lived in a spacious flat in the inner city of muggle London. Ron didn’t know exactly how much a professional seeker made but he was sure the job kept his younger sister comfortable enough to live as she did. She also just happened to have enough spare robes well done enough for him.

“Gin, please explain again why you have so many expensive men’s robes.” He said as he looked around the large spare closet.

She laughed. “The only men I seem to attract are the ones clueless enough to wear jeans to important events... also men’s robes have more pockets.”

He couldn't help but think she was talking about Harry. Their breakup had been messy in a mediocre sense. It was a tad dull but all the more heartbreaking for her. Ron didn’t blame Harry. He’d much rather them both find other people than stay in a loveless marriage. But it was hard for everyone. Having a war just end and then Harry starts to think he wasn’t a part of the family any more. But things settled and then they were better. Ginny still seemed a little bitter about it but nothing hostile had happened in years.

She picked out a form fitting green robe with leather accents. She seemed to judge it for a second before hanging it back up. 

“So… are you going to tell me why you need fancy robes? You and ‘Mione going for dinner?”

He actually laughed at that. “Dinner? I can hardly keep her in one place long enough for bed normally. With all that’s happening now, I don't even know where she is right _now_.”

Ginny inhaled. “Right, what is it then? Going to see your secret mistress?”

Ron stilled for a second before she started chuckling to herself and looking through more clothes. He wasn’t sure why her words struck a chord. He didn’t even have a mistress. His plan’s _weren’t_ even close to that. Ron ignored the nagging feeling in his stomach that reminded him of his strange dreams. Hours later and he was sure the dream had been of some sexual or romantic nature though with whom he couldn't know. Probably just some make believe person he’d imagined up. His breaths did quicken when he realised his dream in no way involved his wife. But again he ignored it. They were just dreams after all. 

He coughed before replying. “Just some Auror business. Boring connection making.” It technically wasn't a lie.

“Well in any case, I think these would work well for you.” 

She held out the outfit. 

The cloak fell to the knees and seemed form fitting in a loose and purposeful way. It was navy blue but the most eye catching thing was the skillful embroidery that covered the entire robe. A motif of flowers made from white thread covered the fabric. The stems were slightly less bold but were all the more intricate. There was inside white fabric that shone almost like silver silk.

“Are these even men's robes?” Ron tried to hide the admiration he felt.

“I actually asked the designer, he went on a rant about how the Aesthetic and purpose of the robes was to imitate the _fussy_ look or women's robes in the 1800's. But then his assistant kind of just went ‘they clothes, made for men but wear them if you wanna.’ if that answers your question.” She quoted.

“What do I even wear under this?” 

“Just these. C’mon try them on.” She handed him a white button up and dress pants.

Ron nodded and walked to the spare bathroom. As he fiddles with the buttons he hears a creak in the door. 

“Ginny?”

“Yeah…” Her voice muffled through the door.

“Are you—are you leaning on the door?”

She was silent for a moment. Ron was almost finished getting dressed but he slowed and waited for her to speak.

“Ron...Where’s _Harry_?” 

He was taken aback. “Ginny, Dad told you what happened right?”

She sighed. “Yeah but… your an Auror, what do you think happened?”

“You don’t want to hear any professional opinions about kidnapping Gin.”

“Cut the bullshit. C’mon mister detective man tell me.”

He shuffled into the sleeves. “He could be dead, I could list multiple reasons why I don’t think that but it's a possibility. Other than that I have no clue. I’m working on it, Gin.”

“Do you think he’ll come home?”

He paused. “I’ll _make_ sure he does.”

She let him get dressed. When he opened the door she smiled. “I gotta say, much better than the fourth year robes.”

Ron was surprised how comfortable they were. He'd never worn magically fitting robes before and in a weird way it felt like he was wearing nothing. 

Even so he could barely focus on the robes. It seemed as if the door between them had made the words null and void out in the open. A routine shoving away of the matter, dirty laundry that stayed in it’s designated space.

Ron sat for tea. He still had three hours before dinner with Malfoy but he didn’t particularly want to change out of and then back into his outfit. 

So he decided to try and drag this visit out as long as he could.

* * *

Ron stood outside Draco Malfoy’s house nearly two hours early for dinner. He didn’t have to wait long after knocking before The blond man opened the door.

“Ron? What are you—Oh…” Malfoy began but paused as he eyed Ron’s clothing.

“Say one bad thing about these and I’ll arrest you.” Ron half joked.

Malfoy stuttered “What? No I li—They're...good. Um, come inside then.”

Ron followed inside, Malfoy seemed hesitant to go near the kitchen. He could smell _something_ cooking. Peaking into the kitchen he saw what could only be described as a colossal heap of scattered things. Multiple pot’s seemed to be smoking and it looked as if a group of carrots were tap dancing on the table.

“Merlin!” Ron quickly moved to stabilise the situation. A reverting spell here a splash of water there and the kitchen basically saved.

Malfoy stood sheepishly in the doorway.

Ron huffed. “Care to explain why your kitchen looked like a war zone?”

The man placed his hand on his hips. “I had it under control.”

“Yep, right that.”

“Oh shut your trap, so _rude_ just because it doesn’t come naturally to me!”

Ron pondered how someone notoriously good at potions could be so bad at cooking. Even with magical help the state of his kitchen seemed to show how unnatural cooking was to Malfoy.

“Why did you even try if you knew that then?”

Malfoy rubbed his temple and sat himself upon the kitchen bench. This made Ron feel something particular that he again couldn't place.

“Well I'm not exactly _allowed_ to hire house elves, and professional catering at such a short notice? Preposterous.”

Ron could see a sense of hopelessness in Malfoys grey eyes. He cursed at himself for feeling bad for the man. Ron just had to think about how these feelings showed how he was better. Being able to feel empathetic for a person as low as Malfoy? Well that basically made Ron a saint _right_? It must show just how better he was at humanity and feelings than say… Hermione.

He surveyed the kitchen before nodding to himself.

“Welp. If my mum’s taught me anything? It’s how to save supper. Pass me the ladle.”

Malfoy’s eyes were wide, then as he saw Ron start to clean up and work on the roast he quickly stood up to help fix the disaster he had made.

Ron never thought he’d ever get along with Draco Malfoy, let alone cook with him. But life surprised you. Just like how surprisingly bad Malfoy was at food magic.

“Malfoy, that looks more like an ostrich egg than a chicken, I can’t believe you were gonna feed me this!”

“Speak again and i’ll poison the roast.”

It was only when things had started to settle down when a semblance of actual conversation struck between the two. Malfoy had again sat upon a surface that was not made to be sat upon (the dining table) and asked,

“Quick question, care to explain why you showed up two hours early.”

Ron gulped. “You rather me not show up and have to cook yourself?”

“So… Do you have some _like_ disaster sixth sense. Auror help magic? That’s why? or can you just not tell the time.”

“You're really harping on this ferret face.”

Ron swore he almost heard a chuckle from the blond man. 

“Well I'm not the one refusing to answer basic questions _weasel_.”

Ron tried to ask himself, _why did he arrive so early?_ Surely he had better things to do on one of his only days off… but then again. It seems like he really didn’t

“You really want to know?”

Malfoy crossed his arms. “Obviously.”

“Had nothing better to do.”

Malfoy raised his eyebrows, thoroughly not convinced and not afraid to show it.

Ron in turn put his hand behind his head and looked to the ceiling. 

“Well it’s true. Went to my sister’s but it’s hard to stay in place when ‘ya feeling tetchy so just kinda came over.”

“Tetchy?”

“Ehh. nervous, irritable? You know...Tetchy.”

“Oh yes, I’m sure Draco can understand that.” An imperial feminine voice came from the doorway. Quickly looking up Ron recognised the blond and black haired woman. She held her husband's old cane with elbow high gloves and a carefully crafted stone like face. 

Malfoy quickly pushes himself up into a formal stance. “Mother!”

Narcissa eyed her son. “Draco? Care to explain what this is about? I assumed you wanted to explain some things but with an Auror here…”

Malfoy gulped.

Ron stood up and held his hand out. “I'm sure he can explain other things over dinner. I’m just here to have dinner, ask some questions and get a feel on the spouses family.”

Narcissa shook his hand. “I haven't agreed to an interview Mr Weasley.”

“Well this is more a talk over dinner than anything else, I’m sure my co-workers will be asking for one eventually.” Ron assured her.

She turned to face her son. “Well then, you have some explaining to do. I woke up to quite a shock in the papers yesterday.”

Ron could say he’s sat through many a awkward conversations. But there was almost nothing like watching Draco Malfoy explain his unorthodox relationship to his mother all the while becoming more and more physically uncomfortable as his words continued.

Narcissa showed very little emotions as her son spoke. When he was finished explaining his engagement she sat back and reviled for a moment.

Ron could then hear muffled giggling again from the doorway. He turned just as the next guest spoke.

“How scandalous Drake! You've made Greg go pale.” Pansy Parkinson laughed as she held out a hand to stable herself on Goyle, who did in fact look almost as uncomfortable as Ron felt.

Malfoy crossed his arms. “How long have you two been there?”

Goyle rubbed his temple before going to sit down next to Draco. “Too long mate. I’d have paid anything to not witness that. No offence Mrs Malfoy”

The older woman smiled. “Oh no, Greg. we can only blame my son for his hesitancy to tell us useful information before it’s too late.”

Malfoy scoffed. 

Parkinson sauntered over to the kitchen and rose her eyebrows at the boiling peas. “Oh Draco don’t look so sour you know it’s true, case in point. You brought law enforcement to dinner.”

Ron shifted uncomfortably. Malfoy spoke. “He’s here to make sure none of _you_ have kidnapped my fiance.”

“ _Fiance!_ ” Parkinson waved her arms.

Goyle, ever the lackey. ” _Potter_!”

They both laughed cruelly and pointed at Draco. “ _Potters fiance!_ ”

Draco rolled his eyes and smirked. “You seem to be taking it well.”

Ron wasn’t sure what to think. The entire situation was more than strange but what surprised him the most was how… friendly they all were. Of course they were slytherins so a good chunk of dialogue was sarcasm and bullying but Ron couldn't help but notice their half smiles. They seemed to cheer Malfoy up. Narcissa watches them like children while Goyle ruffled Malfoy's hair as Pansy started levitating the food onto plates.

As a plate appeared in front of Ron Pansy asked him. “So any suspects Weasley?”

He raised his eyebrows at her. “Can’t tell ya, but hey feel free to give me one.”

She didn’t seem offended. “Just you wait till you get my interview. It’ll be so boring and my alibi will be so air tight. Your department won't know what to do with itself.”

Ron asked Malfoy. “Does she seem a little proud about that?”

Goyle nodded. “She’s got the best track record of all of us.”

Pansy grinned “Zero arrests darling. Cleanest record all around.”

Ron was surprised by that.

“Don’t look so shocked Auror, smallest slip ups. I've even been brought in whenever my husband's old contacts get caught.” Narcissa made known.

Goyle spoke with a mouth stuffed full of potatoes. “I got caught with a little too much dreamless sleep a few years back.”

Draco didn't speak, he didn’t really need to. They all knew what _he’d_ been arrested for.

Ron could laugh. “So i'm at dinner with a bunch of criminals.”

Pansy shook her head. “Did you just forget what I said? Honestly I don't know how Draco can sleep knowing who’s looking for Potter.”

Ron tried not to be snarky. “Yes—well i'm sure it will all turn out fine.”

“Oh please Pans. you can’t criticise people's jobs. You sell jewellery for a living.” Goyle reminded her. 

This seemed to make her think. 

“That reminds me—Draco I _cannot_ believe you went to Murewaters for the rings! I mean seriously?”

Draco quickly slid out of his chair. “ _Wine_!”

Getting Wine drunk was not on Ron’s agenda. In fact he was blatantly aware of how ‘wild’ he tended to get while drunk. But the more the dinner went on the more he understood. The slytherins were— _a lot_. Narcissa and Pansy were as sarcastic as they were precarious. Goyle wasn’t too bad but was a tad obtuse plus anytime Parkinson made a snarky comment he was quick to follow. 

Draco’s eyes met Ron’s. Pansy’s voice was drowned out by a strong quickening heartbeat. _God was that his heartbeat?_

Grey... Ron remembered Harry telling him that once. How grey his eyes were. Harry had always noticed those things, and Ron could maybe understand why. Ron always thought grey didn’t show much emotion, always seemed dull. But looking at Draco he couldn't really seem to remember why he thought that. Because all he saw was amusement and worry. They both leaned back sipping. Pink filled Malfoy’s cheek and they both looked away again. Ron could feel the small pit of feeling again but it was muffled out by the noise. He smiled into his glass as he watched Narcissa and Goyle try to out drink each other.

Ron tried to kick himself back into Auror mode a few times. Tried to focus on why he was here. But the more he was there the more he felt conflicted. He shouldn't be enjoying the dinner, he won't really it was still awkward. But somehow he found himself laughing at the group. Understood why the slytherin table always looked so cheery while still acting like pricks. It was a mischievous kind of joy, and he honestly didn't think anyone at the table was suspicious. 

Maybe he should be worried by that. These were cunning people, and Ron really needed suspects. But for the moment he let himself stop thinking, and he just watched and laughed… and maybe admired a little.

Soon plates were clean and Pansy death stared at her empty glass. They were all still drunk but now the only thing on their minds was the ticking clock on the wall. Every few seconds a different head would turn to look at the time. Goyle was the first to peter home with Pansy following behind. Narcissa didn’t want to leave but eventually had to go later in the night.

Ron was unsettled, he knew he should probably go home. But for a few reasons he really didn’t want to. The obvious was drunk apparating, something he had never attempted and knew for a fact wouldn't end well. The other he didn't want to acknowledge, but wriggled into his head anyway.

They were on the coach, well more _leaning_ on the front panels of it. Ron’s legs spread out against a surprisingly fluffy rug as he stared towards the ceiling. Draco had the empty wine bottle levitating in the air, slowly spinning. But his grey eyes weren't focused on it for long as he turned his head to the side to look at Ron, his cheek pressed against the brown cushion.

“Did you ever pla—play games in Gryffindor?”

Ron tried to avoid his eyes. “Why’d you ask?”

Draco did the best shrug he could. “Always heard stories about the parties—I mean. I don’t know it’s stupid.”

He thought for a second. “Yeah there were games.”

“Really?”

“Well yes, I was never good at much that wasn’t chess but there were games.”

Ron paused before continuing, Draco shuffled closer.

“Parties are loud. Seamus would always play the weirdest muggle music that worked on this spinning thing, but it kept everyone smiling so it wasn’t that bad. Lavender once pulled me into spin the bottle. Didn’t land on me but i'm pretty sure Hermione charmed it not to. I’m sure they can’t have been any different from Slytherin celebrations after a match.”

“No...The Slytherins _never_ had parties, I’m sure if there was they wouldn't be in the common room. Maybe the younger ones snuck off to Hufflepuffs or other places but everyone liked to pretend they were proper. At least from _my_ point of view. I—I think maybe nothing ever happened in front of me… god knows how much of a tattletale I was.” Draco lulled his words.

Ron couldn't help but be pulled in by those eyes one more. They fit so well on a stressed face. Angular shapes complemented the crease above his almost invisible blond eyebrows. Draco Malfoy was the definition of unsure. And it showed. Other things showed too though.

As Ron _looked_ at Draco and as Draco _gazed_ at Ron, he couldn’t help but notice… _jealousy_ maybe? Draco was yearning for something. His eyelashes fluttered and he seemed nothing less than _soft_. The orange glow of the fireplace fell upon his face peacefully and Ron wanted to admire the view forever.

Their eyes met and found themselves wanting to divert.

He doesn’t know how long he sat there until Draco spoke.

“Why haven't you gone home yet?”

Ron could've said anything, talk about the apparition, say it was cold outside, lie.

But he just asked. “Do you want me to go?”

Familiar words. Different answer.

Draco leaned in more. It _was_ cold outside after all. His eyes flickered down, towards Ron’s lips. And Ron followed, admiring the thin slightly opened mouth. He studied their hesitation, their giving in and their words.

Draco barely spoke, sincere and heard nonetheless.

_“ Stay .”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops


	5. Interlude I

_ That night was cold for many, a nipping and uncomfortably basic cold for London. Hermione works tirelessly to ignore the lack of heating in St Mungos. Molly shivers childlike though she cannot recall what shivering is. _

_ Kingsley is in his office, tending to a fire with tired eyes that have gone over thousands of dull papers over the hour. He works most cold nights alone, trying to make things better.  _

_ Ginny cries and her tears quickly sting from the temperature. She thinks of her friend who is lost. _

_ London quavers alongside them all. _

_ But there are two who aren’t cold, in fact they feel the opposite. They are pressed together needy for warmth and enveloped purely in the moment. _

_ Their lips were warm and soft and move together so sweetly they could cry. But they don't, instead they urge the other, push and tease for more. Something blossoms in both men's chests. And though they've had their fill of wine and roast they're hungry for something else. Something new and dark and so terribly good. _

_ It was like that for a long time. Slowly teetering around the main course. Draco pulled off expensive blue robes and discarded his own. They shared breaths and hands roamed without care. It was Heavenly. Small sounds with a crackling fire filled the room as heat radiated from two places. _

_ Ron breathed deeply and lured Draco onto the fluffy rug. Laid him down on his back, facing bare up to lustful eyes.  _

_ He looked like a renaissance painting, ethereal and soft. Ron has never seen another man so dainty, lean and palpable. His blond hair streams into the rug and frames the red worried yet excited face. Draco moves his hips upwards and his mouth  _ _waits_

_ They kiss again, and it gets better every time. They couldn't feel the cold, couldn't remember the outside world, forget who they were other than they were great. They were full. Full of each other and breath and maybe magic sung. _

_ Thighs trembled in euphoria. His mouth formed a perfect ‘O’ and Draco was quickly overwhelmed by the teeth at his neck, the hands that squeezed his hips and the feeling of the man above him. Rapture. _

_ They just couldn’t stop. Together was all they had then and it felt right. Ron was surrounded by a man he couldn't help but ravish. _

_ And for that cold night, all that was wrong felt irrefutably right. And a language of devotion was born between. _


	6. Taking Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shifts in beliefs. Neville. Not so sure loneliness is causing this but go off.

Ron made a point not to look anyone in the eye.

Kingsley’s eyes twitched at the sight of him. “Of all days to be late Ronald! We sent out two patronuses. Two!”

Ron could read a panicked room. “I’d make an excuse sir but there seems to be little time.”

The older man laughed, humourless as it was. “You're right about no time! Upstairs been pushing all morning but I said—I said I want  _ you _ in there first!”

The two men quickened their pace until they stood in front of Shacklebolt's office. Two younger Aurors Ron didn’t take time to recognise, stood guard outside of the door.

“Sir why is your office...?”

“ _ Hush. _ ” Kingsley stood still outside the door and turned to Ron, “What size shoe does he wear”

“Huh?”

Kingsley rolled his eyes. “What size shoe does  _ Harry _ wear?” 

Ron racked his brain. “Nine, ten? Size smaller than mine. Uhh I know he refused to wear magic ones, always bought muggle clothes.”

Kingsley nodded gravely. He opened the door and ushered Ron in.

On the large wooden desk were mountains of paper. But Ron couldn't not notice them. Rugged brown muggle shoes. Neatly placed on the top left corner.

Ron’s bucket of anxiety seemed to overflow that day. 

“Wh—why would…” Ron stared at the shoes, hoping for a miracle answer in their leather exterior. 

Kingsley handed him a piece of parchment. “They left a note.”

Ron recognised the god awful handwriting immediately. It was the very same in which Patil had given him not a few days prior. He was filled with untapped rage as he read.

_ Do not panic. Saviour is still alive. Relax and stay out of my way. _

Was this mockery? Trying to instil fear or false hope? Or buffoonery and idiocy. Ron didn’t know whether or not the criminal was masterful or just didn’t think about what they did. These letters could be mind games or if to take at face value would mean the perp actually wanted the authorities to stop…doing their job?

Ron looked to his superior confused. “Has this been checked for fingerprints?”

Kingsley nodded.  “Nothing came up. Only just implemented all that muggle stuff after the war.”

Ron could sense his hair preparing to fall out due to and abundance of newfound stress. He palmed his forehead and took three steps back before leaning into the wall.

“Go back to your desk Ron. Don't let this hinder your work”

Ron begrudgingly left the office as a group of men of higher authorities entered after him. Then Ron was at his cubicle and left alone his thoughts. The thoughts he was trying to avoid. He looked at the files in front of him. Arson, robbery, petty wand theft...okay Ron definitely couldn’t keep the thoughts from rushing through.

Ron has had enjoyable—intercourse. Hermione was great when she was available and during their six month and a bit break the year before they got married—well Ron couldn’t say he was celibate. But last night? Ron could hear bagpipes in his confusion. He’d never been with a man before. He can’t have been gay or whatever, and even if he was he’d figured Neville or Harry would be his first option. He’d never pinned himself as into blondes.

_ Oh _ —what is he even going on about? Men, gay, enjoyable! Ron berated himself for not wanting to face the facts. He had  _ cheated _ on his wife! With his best mates fiance no less. His _ missing _ best mates finance, who was a total prick with a history of bad attitudes and the smoothest divine skin he’d ever seen. 

Ron banged his head on the desk. “Fuck.”

Ron wanted to be filled with hate and regret. Wanted to desperately blame Draco for tempting him into immoral acts he’d never otherwise do. He could, after all they were drunk and Draco  _ Was _ the one to ask him to stay. But...Ron had stayed hadn’t he? And he just couldn't find it within himself to be angry.

Everything was just happening so quickly. Ron couldn’t even comprehend what had led him to such infidelity. Sure he had felt things for Draco Malfoy, feelings of pity. Nothing more than that, but then apparently not.

Oh Merlin. What would his wife think? She’d leave him that’s for sure. Hermione had enough self respect to leave. And his family? They’d take her side he knew that much, though Percy would remain indifferent. 

And Harry...Oh god he could barely think. The kind of betrayal he’d feel when he comes back. After what he could be experiencing at this moment, to then find out what horrible act his best friend had done against him. No, Ron can’t let that happen.

Thinking back, maybe Ron shouldn’t have left in such a haste that morning. But could anyone really blame him? He’d woken up before Draco, who was asleep still bare on the left side of the bed. Ron was astounded by the last part, bed. He had been sure they were on a rug, so how did they end up here. The next thing that astounded Ron was the fact that fucking Draco hadn’t been the first thing to astound him. Then Ron saw Shacklebolt patronus and fucked right out of there.

Ron recognised the eagle owl flying towards his desk. He exhaled at the reminder once more. Maybe he should go and talk to Draco. Sort this mess out and make sure it never happens again...maybe.

* * *

Ron and Neville sat in their favourite muggle pub that Harry had introduced them to. They sat glumly, Neville was two drinks in and Ron glared at the alcohol refusing to touch a drop.

Neville slurred. “I—it’s not the same without ‘Arry. I'm the only one getting sloshed.”

“That’s because I've been dealing with a hangover all day.” 

“Bad Auror.”

Ron rolled his eyes and held a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell the wife.”

“And face her wrath? Where is she anyway?”

“So many ask... She had night shift last night so she’s either sleeping or knowing her, still working.”

Neville chuckled. “She’s probably just trying to forget, we all have our ways you know. I’m _here_ after all.” he gestured around the pub.

“Sorry you had to find out about Malfoy from the papers. I figured Hermione would have mentioned it in her letters.” Ron winced at his own words.

“Nah it’s fine. Can’t say it wasn’t a right shock though.”

“If it’s any consolation, I’m pretty sure the gits gotten better since Hogwarts.” Well better looking anyway. Ron shook his head. Draco’s newfound compatibility was  _ not  _ a good thing. Ron had to remind himself. But it was hard to keep his thoughts from straying into that sweet pleasurable space.

“Oh he was barely a threat then Ron. A coward with horrible beliefs yes, but he could barely cast a crucio. The amount of pompous kids I see at Hogwarts now puts our teen years in a little perspective.”

“Says the wannabe Hufflepuff.” Ron playfully nudges the drunk man.

“Hey! I’m the head of Gryfindor!”

He laughed. “Yes Neville, I could see no better replacement for Mcgonagall.”

“Merlin. You should have seen her face when she saw the paper. I think she pretends to be all knowing but the  _ shock _ on her face was kind of brilliant.”

Ron imagines her face if she found out what he had done.  _ Okay why in the bloody hell would she find out? _ Ron really needed to sort this out and free his consequence. His mind always seemed to loop back to his night with Draco.

Neville pointed at his friend. "You gotta find him man, no offence but drinking aint fun when you sit here and look glum over god knows what."

"Thanks mate." Why does everyone think he's got to find Harry when Shaklebolt seems to be finding every other case he could work on. Sometimes Ron really hated his circumstances. couldn't Harry not be a big deal for five seconds? Couldn't his wife join be near him for longer than five minutes and Merlin could he just have some control over something for once? He couldn't control Harry's safety, he couldn't control his actions apparently, or his loneliness. There seemed to be a large list of things out of his hand that Ron wanted to just ignore. His mum was getting sicker by the day according to his father yet he just couldn't bring himself to visit. There was no part of his life separate from all the shite he had to deal with, well—not including the unjust but beautiful night with Draco.

Neville slurred drunkenly. Ron sighed. “Let’s get you home bud.”

As they left Ron glazed at the letter he’d received during work.

_ We need to talk. Please. _

_ -DM _

* * *

Ron stood in the familiar living room. The one he would most likely dream about for the rest of his days. The soft feelings in the room would forever be ingrained in his mind.

Draco was sitting on the couch. Arms folded. Ron leaned against the fireplace, keeping his distance. He tried to speak up but Draco beat him to it.

“I'm a bad person.”

“Look Drac—”

“What would he think? He thinks I'm better but I’m _ worse  _ now. I’m _ weak _ .”

Tears started to stream down the blonds face. He looked angelic in his sorrow instead of the self loathing he must be feeling. He heaved in silent sobs. Ron was baffled for only a little time before he miraculously found himself pressed next to the crying man. Ron held his small forearms in his hands and slouched down to look better at his face. Draco’s eyes were squeezed tight.

“Draco.  _ Shh _ it’s okay.” He found himself trying to comfort him.

“It’s  _ not _ . I seduced you and betrayed him. And my thoughts...oh what would he think.” Draco leaned against his shoulder for structural support.

Ron found himself angry.

“ _Stop that._ Consent is a two way street and we both made a choice. Yeah—we may have done something wrong, but we were drunk. Happenstance. I’m sure if it never happens again all will be fine.” Ron felt a twist in his stomach at his last words.

Draco turned his face up towards Ron. His brilliant grey eyes shone and Ron wanted nothing more than to wipe the tears away and press their foreheads together. But he restrained himself.

“I can’t bring myself to regret it. Am I lonely? I must be. I love Harry. So why can't I keep you off my mind?”

Ron halfheartedly chuckled though he was captivated by his words. “Clique much Draco?”

Draco huffed but didn't push him away. ‘You have a wife…”

Ron felt the need to argue. “Hermiones hardly home half the time. She’s always been the _one_ you know but sometimes, I think she’s just not interested in romance, or couple stuff, I'm not sure if he's my friend first then wife or not. We haven’t had sex in nearly six months I think.”

“So you were _lonely_ …”

Ron held Draco’s gaze. “I can’t keep thoughts of you away. You're brilliant. When I’m here I can barely think about the consequences.” Ron let himself sweep Draco’s fringe away.

Draco sighed. “Are we both bad?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t feel bad. But I know what we did was wrong, yet I can't bring myself to care.”

“I think I care too much sometimes and then—not enough. I had morals I'm sure, so where are they now?”

Ron pondered for a second. Let himself think deeply for a second. He hadn't really allowed himself to think about his true character. Ron had committed good deeds in the past. Had done horrible things to his friends _as well_ though he’d figured he was well past that. 

What did people think of when they thought of Ron Weasley? Nothing more than Harry Potter’s friend. That much was clear the moment Harry disappeared. Ron seemed to only be useful when he could identify a pair of fucking shoes.

Maybe Ron deserved a little bad, and maybe everyone else did too. Was indulging so bad after all? Draco’s angelic pleasure was the most comfortable atrocity he’d ever felt. Maybe he deserved a little control. Deserved someone who needed a distraction as much as he did.

“Draco, I think for once morals don’t matter. We are here right now, let yourself be at peace. We can think critically another day. Let us distract each other.” Ron reassured himself. Did not dare to pay attention to his sudden shift in view.

He kept the mans gaze and felt the heat of their shoulders pressed together.

Draco leaned in. smiling softly, and in an instant their lips met once again. The familiar presence on Ron’s was calming and he swam in it. He felt nothing but charmed, though he must not have shown it as Draco quickly pulled pack and covered his mouth in shock.

“I'm so sorry I thought—”

Ron threw his bucket of anxiety out of the window and leaned in to hug the man. He placed his mouth near flushed ears and whispered. “This stay’s secret.”

Draco gulped. “I wouldn't think anything more.”

And they kissed again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not super proud of this chapter, hopefully I can delve into the situation and character choices better next time. Also i don't and never will condone cheating but this is fiction and the only type of plot I can thread together so yeah.


	7. Bad Romance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good things happen to bad people, bad people make good things.

It had been a few days since what Ron had dubbed as ‘The Incident.” He had begun to call it that simply because  _ The night that started the evenings of sexual infidelity with Draco Malfoy _ seemed a little too long and a tad on the nose.

Ron had thought adultery would be much harder to pull off and live with. But it was _actually_ pretty easy. He jotted most of this down to Malfoy's house being void of people half the time but Ron knew that wasn’t all of it. He’d never been so grateful for the hours a healer works. Merlin bless healthcare workers but it did work to his advantage.

They’d come to a sort of routine. Ron would work during most days of the week on a _no where case_ while Draco did whatever he did. Then Ron would go home long enough to make the house seem lived in before heading over to Draco’s place. They'd hang and Ron would head home at about one-three AM.

Being there was maybe the most fun Ron had ever had since his younger years. Sometimes they _didn't_ even have sex, just talked like two friends.

They were having one of _those_ nights. Draco was sitting on his knees in front of a box shaped piece of technology with a flimsy instruction manual inches from his face. Ron was holding three different ‘ _ cables _ ’ alternating their positions against Draco’s demands.

“No not there! That one connects to the  _ dee-vee-dee _ player.” He over pronounced the letters.

Ron frowned but complied anyway. “Why on earth would you buy a _TV_?” he was a little proud that he could actually pronounce the name of the wretched tech.

“Impulse.” Draco shrugged, “I mean moving _pictures_ —and not like portraits but actual movement! If only this wasn’t so bloody confusing.”

Ron glared at the final cord with three metal points. It took his head a moment to bring the three holes in the wall and the cord together, and when he did he stayed silent for a few moments as he lined the two up and pushed in.

“Hey maybe try—” Draco was interrupted as a fuzzy voice emitted from the TV

“ _ And for tonight we have a very special guest with us, you know her, you love her— _ ”

Ron pumped his fist in the air. “Take that!”

Draco seemed to hold back a smile. “We still have to connect the player Ron.”

“ _Shite_.”

It had taken only a few solid hours but finally after Ron' impressive improvising and Draco fine tooth coming the instructions they finally had a sound knowledge of how the thing worked. They were curled up on the couch under a heap of blankets. Draco stared intently at the screen shushing Ron whenever he dared speak. Ron had put on the only movie Hermione owned that he figured Draco would like. He had chosen  _ The Sound Of Music.  _ It was a long movie he had seen once before with his wife but this time around he could _kind of_ enjoy it. He even remembered some of the songs which he silently hummed along to. He even allowed himself a little sniffle during the last few moments.

Draco seemed to have realised he could talk and still pay attention as he pondered aloud. “Greg was acting a little weird today, caused me to accidentally drop a baking dish.”

“You probably would have dropped it anyway.”

“Well that’s neither here nor there.”

Ron considered this for a second. “You think he knows?—about us I mean.”

Draco chuckled confidently. “Merlin no. I suspect the only way anyone will find out about this is if one of us snitches or Harry miraculously walks through that door.”

Ron rolled his eyes at the idea of telling anyone, but let himself be paranoid for a few seconds. “How do you  _ know  _ that?”

“First of all, this house has every anti animagus, camera and microphone ward you could possibly imagine, you can thank Harry’s hatred of the press for that. But I also know because no one’s looking. Everyone was always looking for Harry, keeping him a secret was nearly impossible but I managed that. You're...easier, you’d have easier excuses to be here. But even then no one’s looking.”

Ron took in every word and knew what he said was in fact true. No one was asking where he was, and even if they did a simple conclusion of helping out your friend's fiance was enough. In a way being here was easier than date night with Hermione, well if date night existed.

“Way to compliment a guy Draco.”

“Well I've always been talented at flattery, And anyway if anyone ever asks I’ll just say we're trying to...get to know each other.”

Ron leaned in grinning. “Get to know each other aye?”

“ _ Yes _ …”

Ron pulled back before Draco could move closer, still smiling teasingly but in a different way. “Okay then! What’s your favourite colour?”

Draco stammered. “Y—you tease!”

“Just answer the question.”

“Fine. Silver. And don't say it’s not a colour that’s unoriginal.”

Ron nodded. “Makes sense, figured green but that's a little stereotypical. Okay ask now _me_ something.”

Draco put on an unimpressed face. “What is this? My tenth birthday party.”

“Oh stop being priss. C’mon.”

Draco was silent for a few moments before questioning. “What were your opinions of me during our school years?”

Ron sighed. “Heavy question. you really wanna know?”

“I can take it.”

“I don’t know. I mean obviously it wasn’t very positive but there was a lot of different stuff besides you being a git. I mean you annoyed me, always getting Harry’s attention when you didn’t deserve it. Then you’d walk around with new robes and presents when I could barely get more than hand me downs—And you had a gaggle of Slytherins who loved you no matter how cowardly you were just because of some stupid hierarchy. I bloody hated you but maybe it was also a little jealousy.”

Draco looked taken back, eyebrows high up. “Jealous of _me_? B—but you had those stupid home made sweaters and more loving family than you could ever need— _and_ you were instantly friends with Harry Potter! Not to mention how you were able to easily be on the right side of the war. I would have done anything to be as brave and lucky as you.”

Ron laughed in surprise. “ _ Really _ ? Guess we both wanted different things then.”

“I guess.” Draco smiled softly to himself. “Okay ask your question then Ron, i'm sure my favourite colour wasn’t exactly what you had in mind.”

“Actually yes. Did you and Harry start out like this—us. How did you two get together?”

‘Way to seduce a guy by bringing up his fiance. Didn’t I answer this during my interview?”

Ron shook his head. “No, just how you two reconnected, not the specifics.”

Draco puffed out his cheeks. “Well it was nothing like this that’s for sure. Harry was slow. Romantic. He persisted for dates and would cook  _ and  _ I know he’s a Gryffindor but he took so long to kiss me I just thought that was how he showed his friendship. I kind of wished he’d pushed more. He was gentle. Don’t get me wrong it’s nice but I don’t deserve that.”

“Shite should I be meaner to you? Does that get you off?”

Draco pushed him away jokingly. Ron couldn't stop himself from laughing. They both heaved breathlessly while Draco continuously pushed his shoulder. “Sh — shut up!” He huffed another laugh, “Don’t be so crude!”

Ron calmed himself down and smiled. “Nah, I think me being here is already way less romantic.”

“Yes, well affairs aren’t really designed for gentleness.” 

“Oh I  _ could _ be gentle.” Ron smirked before starting to sing. “ _ Edelweiss, Edelweiss _ —”

Draco looked mortified. “Very funny.”

" _ Every morning you greet me _ _ — _ ”

“You can stop now.”

Ron picked up his volume. “ _ Small and white, clean and bright— _ ”

Draco tired to cover his mouth but Ron pulled back grinning wildly. “It’s not funny!”

“ _ You look happy to meet me! _ ”

Draco pouted though humour shone in his eyes. “Your singing is mediocre.”

All Ron seemed to be able to do was laugh. He bowed though sitting on the couch it must have seemed more like a face plant into the blankets. His face warmed.

* * *

Percy had decided to come for tea. This was irregular within the fact that Percy rarely ever did any form of activity that could be categorised as leisure time or any social setting that wasn’t either connection making or family dinners.

Percy was also not the closest to Ron. Turns out locking yourself in your room half the time and distancing yourself from the family doesn’t create a very strong brotherly blonde. Though Ron was past all that now and was just a little confused to find his older brother sitting at the dinner table sipping tea out of a mug that reminded Ron oddly of something Umbridge would own. _Did Hermione own that? A gift from Mum?_

“ _You know_ I figured Ginny or Fred would be the ones to break into my house. How’d you even get in here?”

Percy looked unimpressed, _or was that just his face_?

“I've come to escort you to the St Mungos.”

Ron was confused. “Uhh _ —why _ ?”

“Because you're avoiding the place? You’d think with your’e wife working there and your sick mother you’d show.” Percy raised his eyebrows as he continued to sip his tea

_Had he been avoiding St Mungo_ s? He can’t have been. He’s just _ — _ busy. Who could blame him? He had visited Parvati and then had dinner with the Slytherins, which after that meant most afternoons he was working or participating in a mutual affair and _ — _ okay maybe he was avoiding the place. 

Ron shrugged. “Don’t like hospitals.”

Percy stared blankly for a few moments, before finding his answer adequate and standing up.

“Well c’mon then.”

Ron wasn’t exactly lying about not liking hospitals. It was always so bright and bustling but he doesn’t think there has ever been much good going on inside St Mungos. At least not what he’s experienced anyway.

They walked through the hallways, this time escorted by a skinny old healer who Ron at first glance had thought was Harry’s evil aunt. They were silent for most of the walk, besides when Percy had felt the need to comment on Ron’s state of dress and how messy his hair was. Ron self consciously patted it down.

The healer stopped in her tracks as she neared the door to Molly's room. Ron looked at the door, nothing was irregular really. It was just a closed door. But Percy’s face paled and the healer motioned at Ron to stop walking.

She cleared her throat. “Umm _ —please  _ wait out here for a moment sirs.”

Quick as a mouse she scurried into the room promptly shutting the door behind her.

“Perce? What’s that about?”

Percy gulped. “I’m going to go find Hermione.”

Ron was then left bewildered in the middle of the hallway alone. He tried not to think too hard before placing himself down on a flimsy plastic chair.  _ You’d think _ with magic they’d try to make this place more comfortable.

He pulled out his flask and drank the old stale water he’d never bothered to replace. Hermione would pretend to be proud at his attempt to stay hydrated were she there.

speaking of the devil Hermione and Percy strode fast paced down the hallway eyes locked towards the door. Hermione made no look towards Ron as she entered the room leaving the two brothers behind.

It was only a few moments after she entered when he finally figured out the severity of the situation. He heard cry past the door. A cry he knew was none other than his wife's cry of despair.

He needn't wait much longer before figuring out what was really wrong though. Hermione burst through the door eyes swollen with fast falling tears. 

“Ron! I'm so _ — _ so  _ sorry! _ Sh _ — _ she.” Before she could finish she fell into the chair next to Ron and decided to clutch at him, and plant her face in his shoulder.

Percy gasped having already figured out what had happened. But Ron was still confused.

“What's Wrong?”

The familiar younger male healer walked awkwardly out of the room. Holding what appeared to be a newspaper in his hand.

“Sirs. I'm so sorry to inform you, but Molly Weasley has unfortunately...passed.”

Time stopped. Ron felt his mind start to shake. The room around him seems to sway and blur. His chest moved up and down as his breathing quickened noticeably. He tried to keep his composure, not becoming a sobbing mess like Hermione was his main priority. his chest burned

Percy gulped. “Can you please explain to us how?”

The young healer shifted on his feet. “We have come to the conclusion that due to her condition her magic was becoming tense. She seems to have had a visceral emotional response to something causing her brain to get confused and rerouting her magic into itself.”

Ron spoke up. “What was it?”

The young healer held out the Daily Prophet, for them to see the headline. Ron could barely read it and it took a few seconds for his shaking eyes to adjust and take in the big bold words.

_ Harry Potter Dead? Pieces Of Him Sent To Ministry _

Ron heaved. A lie had killed his mother.  _ A LIE HAD KILLED HIS MOTHER _ . A flimsy piece of paper was all it took to take out the strongest woman he’d ever known. The woman who defeated Bellatrix Le-fucking-strange was dead. Dead. _ Dead _ .

He didn’t let himself cry. He heard his wife's soft _sorry_ ’s every few seconds and kept himself from shouting at her, at the h _ealers_ , at _Harry_ for not being here. At anyone. He breathed.

“Can I see her?”

The healer looked conflicted but nodded nonetheless.

* * *

It seems even a family death can’t stop his wife from over-time. Ron was thankful for that. There was only one person he wanted to talk to. He seems to have forgotten one tiny detail as he entered the house.

The familiar paper was instantly slung towards his face. Malfoy stood in the kitchen with a raging face. His usual sarcastic voice strained.

“DEAD! _ Harry Dead!  _ Is it true? Why didn’t you tell me and why is everything coming out in the paper! I thought you of all people would tell me the truth Ron!”

Ron was just about ready to set the entire Prophet printing office on fire. He approached the angry man but a fork was then thrown at him. He held his hands up in surrender. Draco stopped for a second and seemed to consider the bags under Ron’s eyes and his defeated look. He stayed silent and allowed Ron to explain.

“The kidnapper sent his shoes to Shacklebolt. No body parts. it still seems like Harry's being kept alive somewhere, I don’t know how the paper got the story but a lot of people went in and out of the office that day. I still believe he's okay.”

Draco seems to calm down a bit and dropped the rest of the cutlery from his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Ron smiled though it took all his might. “You were so excited to set up the TV. I didn’t want to ruin that. I’m sorry. Next time you’ll be the first to know.”

Silence. Then, “Okay.” Surprisingly Draco moved, slow coordinated steps until Ron round Draco's arms wrapped around him.

The hug was calming, so warm and comfortable. Ron could be little more at peace. It was tight but unlike Hermione's grip it wasn’t suffocating and Ron fell into as easily as bed.

Draco leaned into his collar bone. “Don’t keep secrets from me, we can’t afford to do that.”

Ron shook, he finally felt the tears. It washed out of him. “M—my mums g _ —gone.” _

Draco pulled his head back to look at Ron, confused.

Ron couldn't help himself but let it all out. Told him about the cognitive failure, what put her in St Mungos and what the article had done to her. It poured out of his dry throat like a river and filled the quiet room with breathing and upsetting words. When he finished he felt a somewhat better. his shoulder weren't as heavy but he was about t start swaying. Exhaustion seemed to be settling in.

Draco held on tighter. “I’m so _ — _ Ron I _ —” _

“Can I stay here for the night?” Ron couldn’t bear to go back to that empty bed.

“Please do. I don’t think either of us should be alone right now.”

Draco pulled his hand up and caressed Ron's jawline. Ron was protected by his long fingers. This house they stood in kept the horrors of the outside world away and only left the two immoral lovers to grieve within its wall and find comfort within each other's contrasting characters.

Rob brought their foreheads together and took the opportunity to study Draco’s eyes. They were tainted Red like his, as if they too had been crying as well. And then Ron made two promises right then, one to himself and one to Draco. He promised himself that he would never let himself be the cause of the other man’s tears ever again. The other he verbalised.

“Draco... _I will never lie to you_. I will promise you that right now.”

The blonde man let his eyelashes flutter against his flushed cheeks. “No lie’s between us? I’d like that.”

It was after that that Ron finally got a proper look at Draco's bedroom. It was cosy and coloured in welcoming oranges and peach coloured sheets. Draco laid out some of his clothes that would be a little small for Ron on the bed.

He pointed towards the other door in the room. “Showers there. Warm water will help.”

Ron nodded solemnly but couldn’t find it within himself to move his feet. Then Draco spoke.

“If I wank you off would you feel better?”

Ron's eyebrows shot up as he turned to look at Draco, who promptly went back on his statement.

“O _ — _ oh _Merlin_ , I'm so sorry I was just trying to lighten the mood and distract you I _ —” _

Ron grabbed Draco's arm and pulled the man smoothly towards him. “Distract me, please.” he practically begged.

Draco barely skipped a beat before replying “Only if you me.” and then let himself smile once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm evil. Does this count as hurt comfort? Sorry about the bad things said about Percy, but this is from Ron's perspective so oh well.  
> Also fluff! Probably should have held back on it but I don't think Ron or Draco really understand why they do the things they do, anyway making boundaries in social situations between characters is only fun when they're willing to follow them so we get fluff. yay?


	8. He's Still Engadged and I'm Married

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tropes, Second guessing Harry, Lots of remebering and on goes the mystery.

It had been a while since Ron had woken up next to someone, and merlin how he missed it. He missed the warmth of another person, missed the relaxation he felt when he slept near another person. If he thought about it Ron probably hadn't been this relaxed since the night after the war ended

That may have sounded confusing but it wasn't really.

He had grieved that night, cried _so much_. But even still there was for that moment a sense of peace. This because Voldemort was dead and the war had finally ended, But the peace wasn't much help and he couldn’t find it within himself to be alone. Thankfully he wasn't.

He doesn’t remember exactly how it happened but he does remember the burrow living room being covered in many mattresses and pillows that night. Somehow they got nearly everyone to fit in the sqyashed house that night. He remebers lookng around and seeing Luna, Ginny, Neville, Dean and Seamus all under three duvets fused together in the corner of the room while Neville had somehow wrapped his arms around all four of them.

His parents were slumped against the kitchen table after serving out at least thirty different servings of peas and mashed potatoes. Percy and George who had initially been arguing as they entered the house were now sharing the smaller couch fast asleep nestled against each other, tears still stained their cheeks. Around them where old DA group members holding pillows to their chests with no family left and nowhere to go. Bill kept his eyes locked on the window and Fluer rubbed his arms up and down. 

Himself, Hermione and Harry had initially claimed the main couch, but without room for the three of them together they had found themselves on the mattress in front of it. Harry had positioned himself between them both and was trying not to shake or sob, but his silent cires echoed throughought the room. No one said a word for the rest of that night, and even in the melancholy and grief Ron still thinks of that night as one of the best nights of sleep he ever got.

Waking up next to Draco had the same sort of softness Ron needed. He forced thoughts about his mother and best friend out of his mind and let himself appreciate the way Draco’s hair fell onto the peach pillows and how his pale skin tinted orange in the sunrise’s glow.

Draco groaned as he woke up and turned to face Ron. He seemed surprised that Ron was still there.

“Morning.”

Ron shivered, english mornings were always cold no matter the season, Draco’s presence made it seem a little warmer even so.

Draco reached up to slick back his hair. “Is everything alright?”

“ _Yeah_...”

“Ok dumb question.” Draco forced out a laugh.

Ron sat up against the headboard. “No actually I'm serious, I don’t think I should have been _alone_ last night.”

Draco pulled himself up. “I don't want to step on any toes but why were you even alone?”

Ron chuckled. “Draco, stepping on toes is one of your personality traits.”

Why had Ron been left alone last night? The usual reasons he supposed. Ron had been in the room with his dad sobbing over his mother. Her face looked horrified even with her eyelids purposefully closed. Ron hadn’t looked at her for more than a few seconds before forcing himself out of the room to spill his guts. 

His wife had already left and Percy was scratching out letters and didn't seem to hear a word Ron had said. Though Ron had he knew he didn’t have to ask. Hermione always pushed herself into working when life got tough. After the trauma of second year she pushed herself into so much study she needed a _time turner_ and during the horcrux hunt she’d work extra hard on their quest just to spite Ron.

At that moment she was most definitely in the children ward at this second helping kids forgetting who she was. Ron was thankful for the distance even though it hurt, he didn’t think he could stand to look at his family members and without Harry he was left alone, not counting the bond devil he'd grown close to.

Ron was silent as he remembered his promise from the previous night.  _ I will never lie to you _ _ — _ he intended to keep that promise. 

“Hermiones pushed all her energy into work, and unlike _myself_ most of my family grieves in solitude... when mum’s not there to push us together.”

Draco found the courage to reach out to squeeze his hand, it was somehow more intimate than the sex.

“I can’t imagine.”

Ron could agree that Draco probably couldn’t imagine a world without his mum. Ron may not have obsessed over the Malfoys like Harry had but he did know one thing, the Malfoys loved each other. Enough to disobey direct orders from one of the most dangerous people to ever live, for _ each other _ . And though teenage Ron would disagree, if Narcissa died he would definitely mourn her. He could admit she was great. Good company and funny with enough love for her son to fill the moon. 

Ron squeezed back. “Don’t. being here is helping.”

Draco wiped his eyes before getting out of the bed. Ron looked around the room, yesterdays clothes were strewn across the floor and it seemed Ron had only managed to slip on Draco’s tight pajama pants after last nights _activities_ before dozing off. Somehow Draco had managed full sleep getup including socks. 

He seemed to also have noticed Ron’s state of dress. “I’ll go down and get breakfast, you can come down when you're decent.”

Ron raised his eyebrows. “Breakfast?”

“Oh don’t look so scared—It’s just cereal!”

When they were in the kitchen Ron reached up for a dull green mug.

Draco gripped his arm. “—Not that one! That one’s Harry’s.”

Harry had his own mug? Who claims a mug?

“C’mon, it’s not like he lives here.” Ron joked before fully thinking through his words.

The morning's chill vibe came to a halt.

“He  _ will _ be. When he comes home I'm not letting him stay at his  _ horrible _ house longer than it takes for him to pack. Grimmuald does him no good.”

Harry living here? Ron didn’t want to picture it. This place was his getaway from, well everything. Harry being here would ruin the comfort of the house. Ron shook his head at the bitter thoughts. Those type of thoughts lead to thinking about the longevity of  _ this _ . What will happen once Harry is found? Does Draco expect Ron to leave his wife —Does he expect Draco to leave Harry? Would they even work outside of these cardboard boundaries they've built between each other?

No it’s best not to think about it, he'll just get a headache that way.

Then he continued to ponder. Would Harry leave Grimmuald, Ron doesn’t think he would—even for Draco, and by the sounds of it Draco doesn’t truly believe that either.

Even still it felt oddly like Ron was forgetting something.

“Grimmauld,— _ The crime scene! _ ”

Draco seemed confused.

“I need to go. I—I haven't even seen the crime scene yet! That should have been the first thing I did!” Ron walked off, aiming to leave the house.

Draco was holding a slice of toast in each hand. “But—breakfast!”

Ron leaned back and took one to place in his mouth. He spoke through the bread as he exited the house.

“ _ Mph-thanks! _ I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“I rented the Titanic!”

* * *

Ron stopped by his house to get some clean clothes, magically cleaning the ones he had worn never sat right with him.

There was a pile of letters dropped onto his kitchen table, probably put there by his wife or impatient owls who couldn't be bothered to wait.

The first one was from Ginny. A few short words in small scribbles.

_ Going out of town, be back in a few days. _

The next was from his wife, confirming his suspicions about her work habits. It was a concise note telling him she’d taken  _ more _ overtime. The rest of the letters Ron tried to read but none of the words seemed to take hold in his brain so he just let them lay out.

"Ginny’s out of town huh?" He mumbled to himself. What a weird way to word  _ leave me alone. The again  _ Ginny liked to do that, make muggle excuses. She got that habbit from Arthur. A useless habit though. Once she had told him she was going to watch the ‘cricket’ and couldn’t go to dinner, that night she was arrested at a wizard club for being in possession of a few vials of  _ tinted flame _ . 

Ron rolled his eyes as he scoured his wardrobe, being _ out of town _ means nothing when you can apparate or use a broom. Ron doesn’t know what he expected though, out of all his siblings he’s definitely closer to Ginny but that statement couldn't be said for her. She has a truckload of people who could support her more than he. She probably just wants to stay with Luna or George alone for a little while. Ron huffs.

He let's himself imagine what she'd do if she found out her lack of support only gave him more time for his delghtful affair. The daydream is moribd, very dramtic and most definitly inacurate but he let's himself relish in her imaginary shock.

Would she blame herself? Blame Hermione or their older brothers? Or would she focus all her hate towards Draco? Ron likes to believe they wouldn't blame him, even though they would. Instead he likes to imagine the excuses they'd make for himself, he way they'd beg for him to stay with his wife, stay and not break apart their crumbling family.

He sighs, he knows It wouldn't go like that, but It's nice to imagine.

* * *

  
  


To get into Grimmauld for most would be a tedious process. Harry’s floo had been cut off from the network the night of the crime and the house was basically designed to keep out intruders. If you weren't wanted in the house you couldn’t go in, and adding the ministries crime wards into the mix would also be a small problem as Ron didn't have the most explicit persimmon to go in there, and he didn’t want to run the risk of trying to enter and getting caught without clearance.. 

Thankfully the Auror cubicles weren’t the most private of places, and it just so happened _many_ of Ron’s colleagues had left their all too important badges right snug in their top draws.

It was times like these when Ron was almost thankful for the faults the Ministry had. Almost.

Of course the badge let him through the first layer of wards but the townhouses personal wards seemed to welcome Ron more.

Ron almost couldn’t believe the last time he entered through the front door a war was going on, after that he always used the Floo, it was a little surreal.

Ron had never liked 12 Grimmauld Place, even after Harry's interior decorating phase a few years back. The house just seemed  _ tainated.  _ Ron reckons that’s why Harry likes the place. No matter how you change the colour of the walls or layout of the furniture the foundation is still the same. Walk through and you could spot out where  _ that  _ person had a meltdown or the  _ place  _ all the upsetting letters were once stacked. He thinks Harry likes to be reminded of it all, or at the very least has convinced himself he needs to be reminded of it all. It’s why Harry kept that stupid _potter stinks_ badge from fourth year and why he convinced himself that Snape was a good person because the man had the hot’s for his mum. 

Ron shuddered,  _ that  _ particular one had taken quite a while to argue out of Harry. Maybe believing Snape and Dumbledore were good people gives him more a reason to think of the bloody twats, and Ron could agree that pondering and thinking was much easier than facing what it truly was.

Ron shook himself into focus, _now wasn't the time_. He began looking around. To Ron’s utter shock the place looked nothing but...normal. What had Hermione said when she had come here? Harry’s wand had been found under a table.

Harry hadn’t been without a wand since his broke in 1997, it was like a limb to him. And now it was in evidence storage somewhere. That was the only physical evidence this bloody case had.

Each and every room was mundane, and Ron knew for a fact nothing had been moved since the night he went missing. The hallway held up an umbrella and coat with the floor having two pairs of shoes near the door. The living room had the usual stack of magazines and muggle paper on the coffee table with two mugs of what appeared to be tea and coffee placed near them. 

Ron walked through the room towards the kitchen. He shivered, was the window open? He could hear the creak of the window hinges and suddenly Ron felt less alone. The carpet shifted his weight.

He entered the kitchen and found more normal. He felt a little silly having made such a scene about coming here when it seems all this case had to offer was nothing.

Was this all for naught? Had Harry _ even _ been kidnapped, or was he merely just running off like Ron had once. Harry was smart enough to pull it off and leave no evidence.

But he still couldn’t figure out any _ why’s. Why  _ would someone take Harry the way they did? And if he had purposefully left _, Why_?

Why would he leave his family, his best mates. Why would he leave Draco? The brattiest, most enjoyable man with the eye’s of an angel and the body of a shrine. 

Draco, someone who you could grab and never want to let go. Who made the sweetest sounds in the darkest of hours and who's cowardice formed compassion and left you feeling like the most valuable diamond at the auction. 

The Draco who filled his thoughts no matter how hard he pushed them down.

It was these thoughts that almost distracted him from the shadow beneath him, well the  _ shadows  _ beneath him. One belonging to him —one of a slimmer build. He could feel the pressense of someone behind him, and he _definitly_ wasn't alone.

Ron felt his entire face come alive in shock. He attempted to turn around and shout.

“Hey!—”

but he couldn't speak anything else before the edge of his sight started to blur.

A familiar voice echoed in his ears as he began to see the floor come closer and the room spin.

“Stupefy!”

The world went black.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a little longer than expected but i'm pretty proud of where it ended up~It's all coming together.
> 
> Ron's 'hot takes' about Snape and Dumblebore were not initally intended but wow he went there, He really be anylising everyone in his life rn. Also Ron's little war flashback and subtle dickishness.   
> plus Harry is mentioned exactly 20 times this chapter and has still to appear...Or did he?


	9. A Delve Into The Mind Of Draco Malfoy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco contemplates, remembers and investigates. A look into the other half of our not so golden duo

How does Draco Malfoy spend his time? An interesting question no one bothered to ask but here was the answer— _ He contemplates. _

As a child he always figured he’d do whatever his father did in the ministry or work in potions, _something important._ He spent many hours daydreaming about his future. That within itself should have been a hint at his borderline addiction to thought, wondering, figuring and thinking. It was all the same and Draco couldn’t shake it away.

Know that didn’t mean he never acted or did anything, just that when he did he was most likely not entirely  _ present _ . And if he was he was  _ too  _ present. To him it felt as if he wasn't ever just  _ there.  _

There were moments though, moments when all worry and musing fell away and he was able to just be.

Harry had been one of the first to cause a moment since the war. Harry was so kind and faithful that being near him was like bathing in the warmth of the afternoon sun. A peak of his attention and all the world faded away...But it couldn’t last for long. They were a secret while Harry is the most important person to ever lived…And Draco was—Draco.

With all that there was a lot to worry about, and even with Harry’s comforting presence Draco was far from experiencing reality without being plagued by his own mind.

Then his fiance had the gall to get kidnapped and his brain had to form a whole new area dedicated to all  _ that. _

His situation with _R_ _on Weasley_ had been a unique one from the start, It seemed instantly his thoughts would drift to the other man in the most inappropriate of situations. Most would blame this on the lonesomeness or maybe a desire to ruin the man he’d always been jealous of. But Draco didn't seem to even have  _ time  _ for those thoughts. Instead he was focused on Ron's firm arms, the way his legs towered over his own and merely how splendid the man looked above him.

When he was with Ron... well it might sound blankly clique, but all his worries  _ fell away _ . He could experience things with Ron. He could experience the horrible goodness of the man,  _ experience  _ hour long movies snuggled up against a lover like a muggle and most of all, he could _ indulge _ himself.

With Ron he didn’t feel like the  _ bad _ half of the pair, and even against all logic he didn’t feel as if they were a  _ bad _ pair. They just felt like a pair. A perfectly dramatic puzzle that fit so well.

Draco wanted to wake up next to Ron, wanted to freely walk down the street able to hold his hand without worry, wanted to snuggle on cold nights with someone who didn’t work night shifts. He  _ needed _ someone who could handle him on a soft rug and be so enthralled they hadn’t time to move to a bed.

Did Draco Malfoy love Harry Potter? Of course he did, everyone did. He was a beacon of hope, a saviour kind enough to love Draco back.

But…maybe he was falling  _ in love _ with someone else. Falling for Ron.

It was stupid to let himself though. It could never work. They were built on hiding and infidelity. Being together was evil to their loved ones. They weren’t destined for a happy end. But maybe that was all the more reason to be with each other, maybe they deserved this, the bad and the splendid. Punishment for their past and a reward for their troubles.

All this came about in Draco’s head as he glared at Harry’s mug. It was a stupid thing, something Harry had brought in a few weeks after they got together. Something that tied him to the house. A promise of togetherness that would never be fulfilled. No matter how Draco fought about it and convinced himself he knew Harry would never live  _ here _ . It was too muggle, too close to a world he distanced himself from every day while Draco grew closer to it.

_Ron liked this hous_ e—The thought made Draco smile. He liked that he could provide a safe haven for the man.

He liked that Ron felt more comfortable with him than his family. Maybe the revenge theory was a little correct in some aspects. Draco couldn’t lie and say dragging Ron away from the Weasleys was his initial intention but it was a nice bonus.

Feeling more needed than wanted was nice—He liked hearing Ron huff about his wife and avoid his siblings when he betrayed them and bedded _him_. The perfect family crumbled while Draco embraced his lover and it was delightfully fun.

Harry had tried to convince Draco that he was actually a good person. Draco didn't believe that. If he was he would have tried to change, no Draco knew who he was. He was a coward uncomfortable with violence and too weak to ignore his desires.

This was fine when his desire was to please Harry, but when his desire was his fiance’s best mate? No he wasn’t a good person—But maybe he was a little less bigoted than before.  _ That must be something. _

He was getting worried now though. Ron had been gone for a few hours too long and he didn’t know what to do. Ron had never been late before, but that was the problem with affairs like theirs. Maybe his wife had summoned him or maybe he’d found a break in the case. Relationships like theirs weren’t meant to be obvious and if Ron rushed back to him during those situations people might get curious. But somehow—Draco felt unnerved.

He’d once heard an anecdote from his mother once. He was fairly young and his father was out of the country. Narcissa was pacing around the room worried and when he asked her what was wrong she smiled weakly and tucked him in carefully.

“ _ You know I love your father very much _ ?”

He nodded sleepily.

“ _ Well, sometimes when two purebloods love each other very much, their magic starts to care for  _ _each other_.”

He sat up curious. “ _ L—like a bond _ ?”

She tilted side to side. “ _ Well sort of, a less formal one I suppose.” _

“ _ What does that mean?” _

Narcissa had rubbed his shoulders soothingly but stayed tense in her movements.

“ _ Well Draco, sometimes it means coincidence, sometimes you just end up in the right place at the right time to help them. Other times it means—you can tell when they're in a little trouble. _ ”

Other children would have put this explanation up to an old wives tale, pureblood propaganda. And even though Draco had long since believed purebloods were superior he knew society was different for them, therefore magic acted differently. He’d researched this phenomenon once. Before wizarding society existed and before they started teaching muggle borns, wizards had to rely on each other. This caused their magic to seek each-other out and help when needed. The first marriage bonds and friendships pact rituals were derived from this sort of magic, though it still tended to happen naturally among pureblood relationships.

Of course his mother’s wording was influenced by superiority. He was sure the correct conditions were purebloods (or ritual casters he supposed) who _cared_ for each other could form this connection. 

Ron was in trouble, he could feel it in his core. The wisp of orange magic within him dulled and groaned and seemed to beg Draco’s silver core for help.

_ Should I contact the Aurors?  _ No he can’t. The implications on himself  _ feeling  _ Ron’s trouble were too great. So off he went to Grimmuald.

He braced himself to apparate there. He ignored the chance that the ministry had placed extra wards, It had been a while since the incident and if he tripped any alarms he’d tell the Aurors that Ron had gone in there, maybe then they’d look for him.

He needn't worry though, begrudgingly the town home let him in. The house was silent and Draco couldn’t help but feel as if something was off, wrong. He made his way through the narrow halls, determined to get to the kitchen though he didn’t know why. During his journey though he noticed something _odd_.

A mug was on the coffee table. A regal gold and white mug. This detail was weird in the fact that Draco was  _ sure  _ that mug was his. He walked closer...yes it  _ was _ . Harry must have stolen it. But—If so then why was it filled with coffee? Harry hated coffee. Draco's gaze faltered and then he saw a grey mug filled with tea. He nodded, yes  _ that one _ must be Harry’s.

But who was drinking the coffee? Draco remembered that the night Harry went missing Ron and his lot hadn’t seen him since the morning while he was at work, so who was Harry having tea with before their date?

Draco’s stomach dropped.  _ No he couldn’t have… right?  _ Had Harry let his kidnapper in? For tea and coffee? Had he known who it was? Draco breathed heavily and recounted this information in his head. The perpetrator knew Harry, drank coffee and liked expensive mugs. He chuckled for a second, It sounded like his mother. He needn’t worry about that though. Narcissa and Pansy had both gone under truth serum. The only one who hadn’t was Greg, who’d hadn’t spoken to Harry since the war.

Greg had come close to finding out about Harry once though, Came into the living room drunk once, didn’t remember the night thankfully.

He hadn’t spoken to Greg since their informal dinner party though. He had been eerily silent since the news broke about Harry. Draco shook these thoughts off. You can’t go accusing people, _friends_ , over a cup of coffee… he didn’t touch it just in case.

He continued his march towards the kitchen and when he entered a profound sense of doom surrounded him, and a little voice—no a  _ sense _ commanded him.  _ Look down. _

Draco indulged the command and gasped at what he saw. A shiny red splatter over white tiles, inches away from his shoes. Draco's hand shot up to his heart. Blood. Fresh.

“Bloody hell!” He swore.  _ Bloody Hell indeed. _

He ran outside and summoned Shacklebolt. He murmured to himself, panicking slightly.

“If I get arrested for this Ron I am  _ so  _ hexing you!”

The voice soothed him, Orange magic warmed his core.

“Pl—please don’t be dead. Don’t be  _ dead _ .”  _ You know he’s—I’m not.  _ Draco stopped himself from sobbing. He repeated words his mother used to tell herself when she worried like she used to.

_“_ Ron _,_ _hold on love_. I’ll be there soon.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little shorter but even though Draco's not got much to do he's got some interesting stuff going on inside that noggin of his.
> 
> I was debating on adding a magic 'bond' element since this fic started but I only just recently found a purpose for one. I couldn't find any place to explain it explicitly so I might as well here.  
> The 'caring bond' doesn't cause telepathic communication, just gives little hints and helping hand's through emotionally connected magical cores. Someones magic can also have input and help sooth another put that person isn't actually talking, their magic is.


	10. Dislocated Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quick escape. A surprise Patronus. A villain.

Gregory Goyle knew Draco wouldn’t understand. He had his mother's heart, that wasn’t so bad. It was the war who ruined his friend, Voldemort and Harry fucking’ Potter. He was distracted, convinced he could never rise to his station, never gain back his wealth and never become the heir he was meant to be.

Draco was His and Vincent's ticket to success, that’s the way it’s always been with Mafloy’s Goyle’s and Crabbe’s. Even when Vince had died Draco should have worked harder than ever...for _him_. If their parents could do the same after the first war then Draco could as well.

But he didn’t, he moved into a small _muggle_ house and lost himself. Goyle sees his friend when Draco thinks no one’s watching. He sits and stares blankly, nothing behind the eyes and everything going on inside the vault of his mind.

Then he goes and soils the memory of their friend by letting himself be seduced by Potter. The person they’d sworn to take down, the person responsible for Vincent’s _death_.

Draco wouldn’t understand his actions but Goyle knew they needed to be done. Greg knew doing this would force Draco into action. Draco would need power to protect the people he swore to protect. If he was going to consort with the enemy they might as well use it to gain some social standing, maybe after this Draco would realise he was never meant to be the widow, the stay at home wife of the saviour. He was meant for so much greater. 

That was how this was supposed to go. Then that weasel bitch decided to go to Grimmuald while he was keeping an eye on the crime scene, what was he supposed to do? She’s been a nightmare to keep quiet. He’s pretty sure she’s gained nerve damage from the amount of times he’s _cruicio_ ’d her into unconsciousness. 

He’s got the other weasel down in the dungeon now. He's aware he hadn’t enough time to clean up the blood splatter from when the man had fallen on the tiles. A mistake. Greg knows he’s going to be found out soon. He just hopes his friend can finally rise up to what he was meant to be, even without the two people he was supposed to take with him.

He’s been staying with Narcissa for the most part. Not that she knows. He feels bad for using her house to commit his crimes but she’s probably used to it, not to mention the fact she’s been under veritaserum so she’d not likely be arrested. 

He looks at the three. The two Weasleys chained up next to the unconscious Harry Potter. Potter had indeed put up a fight the first time Greg came down to feed him. Caused a nasty sprain in his left foot. It's the reason they’re all chained up in muggle handcuffs.

Potters covered in blood. He's dirty and shakes in his sleep. Ron is awake but hasn't spoken a single word since. Greg can tell he’s thinking, putting clues together. The man probably already has the entire case shut inside his head. Bloody Aurors.

Goyle leaves the house. Apparates to the closest grocery store, cursing the house elves new working hours. That reminds him.Greg only slightly regrets killing Potter's elf. The darn thing’s scream echoes in his head sometimes. He's never been a killer. Sure a bully but killing wasn't his strong suit. He had in the war but Greg knew his strong suit was in intimidation and hard work. Besides, the killing curse was one of the most traceable cursed now, and he _really_ didn't feel like killing humans the muggle way. It was to _deprived._

Goyle is arrested in the cereal aisle. He wishes it had been the butchers section.

* * *

Ron curses at himself for not figuring it out sooner, the chicken scratch handwriting, Someone large enough to over power Harry. _Don’t forget the mugs_ —and the mugs! His head throbs to his heart beat and there's blood in his left eye. he feels the pounding in his hand behind his back. He’s in handcuffs, muggle handcuffs.

“Ginny?” he croaks out.

She spits. “What?”

“Can you slip out if these things?”

“Merlin, if I could I would have.”

Ron sighs. A thought comes into his head and he really doesn't want to though he knows he has to. An old trick about handcuffs. He remembers someone telling him this trick once. He must have been drunk at a muggle bar because he can’t remember who did but he remembers the trick nonetheless. He knows it'll hurt like hell and he takes a moment to decide which hand he'd prefer to fuck up.

He grips his left thumb with his other hand. Firm and steady be braces himself.

“Gin, this gonna sound a little gross.”

“What?”

He pulls. He tugs back _hard_. His bones groan in the few seconds it takes to break them. He hears them grind against each other and an ear splitting scream leaves him. The pain is like electricity. It runs down his arms and scream at his brain. Ron can feel the silencing charm in the dungeon. Without it Narcissa would probably already know about the captors in her basement. 

Ginny yells. “What the fuck!”

Harry is still unconscious. Ron’s glad about that, he doesn’t think he could face him right now.

Ron shakes his head. Forces himself to ignore the pain as he tugs his left hand out of the metal confines. His arm shakes in protest but he keeps moving. Ron contemplates doing the same to his right hand but decides against it.

Ginny looks at his thumb. “You're out!”

He laughs, his breath hitching. “Yeah, Unless you want to do that too then you're still stuck.”

The cage-like door of the dungeon is the same as it was all those years ago, rusted and old. He huffs knowing what he has to do, glad he wore his thicker robes that day.

The thing about purebloods is that when they don’t use magic for thing’s they think it’s sneaky, but when others use muggle solutions it’s barbaric. He can hear Draco's protest at what he's about to do like it's his conscience.

Ron tenses his shoulders. Takes a few steps back before barricading his way to the hinges of the bars. His shoulder adds itself to the list of aching body parts as the metal hinges give way causing Ron to fall shoulder first onto cracking concrete.

Ginny struggles with her cuffs.

“I’m gonna go up and look for our wands.”

Ginny looks conflicted. “What if Mrs Malfoy is up there?”

Ron hopes she is. “She didn’t do this. Trust me.”

Malfoy Manor is brighter now. It looks less plagued by the war and the people who live in it. Walking through the house is still difficult though. No matter how distant Ron is from his wife now he still hears her gut wrenching cries as she’s tortured. He sees where the chandelier fell and he can understand why Draco wouldn't want to live here.

It’s only been a night and Ron already misses Draco. He stills for a moment even though _it’s really not the time_. They found Harry, he’s alive. Ron doesn’t know what to think about that. He knows a small part of him never wanted to find him. Know’s he’d prefer a world where he could go home to Draco and spend his days admiring the blond.

Draco brings his mind away from his wife, away from his mother and towards the golden feeling of... _love_?

Ron perishes the thought. He knows how this will go. Knows he’ll go back the bland life with his wife and knows Draco will push him aside to marry Harry Potter and then eventually widow out to the man who can’t stay out of trouble to save his life. That's how it supposed to go. That's how everyone wants it to go, even if _they_ don't.

 _They_ were not destined for the long run. But if there's one thing Ron can do for his lover, it's bring back Harry.

Narcissa is in the drawing room, she drops her tea cup when she sees him. Her grey eyes so much like Draco's widen in shock. Before she can speak he rushes over to grab her wand.

“Mr Weas—!” She sputters as he rips the wand from her grasp. 

“Harry Potter is in your dungeons!” He doesn't have time to explain so he just points downwards.

Her eyes widened. "What?"

“Go help!”

He watches as she gives up trying to get back her wand and rushes toward the prisoners. Ron hopes Ginny hasn’t gotten out yet, Draco would kill him if his sister broke his mother's nose.

Her wand feels heavy in his hand. _Wrong_ . He reminds himself to look for his own once he's contacted everyone. Thankfully it doesn’t reject him immediately. He can almost hear it say _you'll do_. It feels almost like Draco's wand, but older, less hopeful. But it must be close enough like his to let him use it.

He sighs and thinks. Before he contacts the Aurors there’s one person who needs to know he’s safe. _Draco._

“ _Expecto Patronum_!”

He gasps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even shorter chapter but quicker updates so~  
> I like the Mystery but it was never really the main focus of the story just the backdrop so I hope it's not to lacklustre. Probably why these few chaps are so short.


	11. Interlude II

_ It is three in the morning when Kingsley watches Draco Malfoy prove his innocence once again. He hears the man tell him about Mugs and coffee. It’s four in the morning when Kingsley curses at his Aurors for missing two bloody mugs. There’s fingerprints. Maybe the muggle detectives had something right because they finally have a suspect. _

_ They bring Goyle in at five, Kingsley waits nervously in his office for the Wizengamots permission to use Veritaserum on the unwilling suspect. _

_ Hermione is in his office with him, worried sick for her husband. Tears stream down her cheeks as she wonders why them? She prays for his safety not knowing how much he betrays her every day. She spares a pitying thought for Draco realising how he must have felt...little does she know what he’s taken from her. _

_ Percy Weasley Is planning Molly’s funeral. He prays he doesn't have to bury three more. George brings him a glass of wine, he jokes. Makes his brothers lips tilt upwards slightly as they wait. Neither can bring themselves to a full smile but they try. _

_ Draco Malfoy is thinking. He’s sat at a bench in a park he doesn’t recognise. He ponders about his wedding, he wonders if he can truly marry Harry Potter, he comes to a decision. Draco sniffles when he notices the blue glow on the wet morning grass. He can feel the warmth of a Patronus. For a second he lets jealousy sew through him, he’s never been able to cast one. He looks up when he hears Ron’s voice _ _ —his actual voice. _

_ “We're at the Manor, I’m ok.” _

_ The message is minimal but even so Draco is filled up with hope and a little confusion. _

_ It only takes a few more seconds for him to notice Ron’s patronus, It’s form. The creature is larger than an elephant and has scars running along its stomach. The entire thing is blue but it’s eye’s are so dull they could only truly be one colour and the being is elegant in its movements. _

_It’s a Dragon, a large elegant Dragon. It's wings are spread wide and the magnificent beast echoes hopeful words like a song._

_ Draco knows what it means, and he smiles. And he cries. _

* * *

_ Harry has been dreaming of what it will be like when he finally reunites with Draco. He imagines a gasp. A tear filled face and a scream of joy.  _

_ He held onto the thought of the blond man, kicked himself for not getting out sooner. He knows what he will do now though. He will bring Draco home, say their vows and make sure no dark wizard gets to them ever again. He hopes the Weasleys treated him well, hopes now everything can go back to how it should be. _

_ Harry and Ron are at St Mungos being checked out when their partners both rush in. Draco catches Ron’s eyes but looks towards Harry. _

_ Draco is silent as he hugs Harry, squeezes tightly. Harry beams. _

_ Harry's back is to Ron while they hug and his wife embraces him. She holds on tight But Ron’s eyes are locked on Draco's. Draco smiles at him and reaches out his hand. Ron lets himself grasp it and allows their fingers to interlock between the arm length space, out of sight from the others. Ron’s eyes are questioning and Draco nods. _

_ Hermione sobs into his shoulder. _

_ Draco mouths out the words, Ron mouths them back. Both are silent but heard. _

_ ‘I love you.’ _


	12. Funerals, Separation and the Overwhelming Need for a Companion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly's funeral, Ron and his wife finally talk and swallow the tough pill that is their relationship.

Past the leafless trees and hills covered in snow the small village of Ottery St Catchpole was quiet on this cold Sunday afternoon. The sky was painted in grey though it refused to rain and the chill clung to all who dared to leave their homes. If one did leave they would be able to hear the village's small church, which echoed the sounds of soft crying and dull eulogies. 

Ron was thinking.

He had been thinking for a solid week and a half. Funny thing is even after being kidnapped nothing had _really_ changed and now all he did was think,  _ where do I go from here?  _ He’d promised inwardly he wouldn’t allow himself to be lost in thought during Molly’s funeral. It seemed easy, he’d never really gotten lost in thought before.

But then he walked past the graveyard towards the church. Hermione held his arm as they moved past and Ron glanced over the names etched onto old and new gravestones. Nearly all of them were Weasleys, dating from the war back to nearly a century ago. He saw the names and he knew he wasn’t going to be able to make good on this promise. 

Percy was seated next to him on the hard wooden church bench. Ron knew his brother had organised all of this though Percy hadn’t gotten up to speak at all. Ron related to his brother in that regard, both of them seemed to have nothing to say, no last goodbye or send off. They both knew that the funeral was formality, not a stage in grief.

It was sitting there that Ron realised he didn’t _want_ this. He didn’t want to be buried in an old graveyard, just another Weasley in the hundred there have been. He couldn't bear to imagine his wife standing up there and speaking words of sorrow when he didn’t want nor deserve her tears. 

Ron could feel the changing within him. If he was a different person he’d have blamed Draco, but he knew better. He knew that even if he hadn’t walked into infidelity this change would still have taken hold within his heart. Because Draco didn’t cause his complicated feelings towards his wife, He didn’t cause that familial distance that was taking place nor the small hatred for his job that grew larger day by day. This was Ron’s burden and now he had finally acknowledged its existence.

A small part of Ron was telling him to let it go. _You could_ _ stick to what you’ve got. _ If Ron was stronger he would have given into that option. He’d try to bond with his family, he’d tell his wife his woes, or maybe he wouldn’t even do that and let himself be miserable. He probably deserved it. Even so he knew what he was going to do.

Harry patted his back as his mother was lowered into the ground

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

Ron nearly rolled his eyes,  _ always the savoir.  _ “That’s not your fault.”

“She was like a mother to me, so kind and strong. She didn’t deserve to go.”

Molly Weasley had been a good mother, a strong woman fighting for good. She had also been a murder, a soldier and a traditionalist. In many ways her traits carried down into her children. She’d left a void in them when she started to slip, and her death was heavy.

Ron was a coward, he couldn’t bear to face his friend. Didn't want to think that Harry’s place in their family died with Molly. _Ron actually didn’t think it did,_ but he had a feeling that  _ his  _ place  had. 

“You're a good friend Harry…”

“You don't have to be alone now Ron, I’m  _ here.  _ Hermione's here. Everything can go back to how it’s supposed to be. Me and Draco will be at Grimmauld with some tea waiting for when you're ready.”

Ron is starting to think that Harry thinks that he still hates Draco. From the outside it probably looks that way. They hadn’t really spoken since the morning Ron went missing two weeks ago and they avoided each other when possible.

Draco loved him, Ron believed that. They had promised not to lie to each other and Ron knew he too felt the same, his patronus was enough proof of that. Even so they hadn’t been face to face since the St Mungos confession. He didn’t know why Draco was avoiding him  but he could explain  _ why _ he was .

Ron didn’t want to leave his life behind for Draco. But he did want to leave it behind. 

He’d fallen into what his teenage self had wanted after the war, and now he was ready to find out what he truly wanted _now_. Ron wasn’t sure if Draco even wanted to leave Harry, Ron wouldn't complain if he did but Draco wasn’t the driving force of Ron's inner change, he just had the capabilities of making it more happy. Ron loved Draco, and even if it could easily become another disappointment he _was_ going to tell him aloud. There was just one thing he had to do first.

Ron waited until five days after the funeral, he wasn’t sure about the proper etiquette of these things and he didn’t want it to seem like a grieving man’s mistake.

Hermione hadn’t long before she was to go to work and was preparing her lunch when Ron spoke up.

“I've booked us in for dinner tonight.” He didn't want to leave any room for bargaining.

She paused before starting back up again. “I have to work Ron—”

He audibly scoffed letting her become aware about his agitation. “You've been working thirty hour shifts for the past month and a bit!”

“Ron!”

He tried to soften. “ _Hermione_ this is important. I want to discuss some things… tonight.”

She looked confused but nodded. “I can probably get a few hours off. Are you sure we can’t talk now?”

“No, we need time. We’re booked in at eight. I’ll owl you the address.”

Hermione for the first time in her life didn’t seem to be able to come to a conclusion. She smiled awkwardly and went back to making her lunch. “It’s a date.”

* * *

Ron had found the perfect restaurant. It wasn’t fancy, the tables were a little too low and you needn’t dress up too much. It was one of those places that didn’t have waiters and you had to walk up to order and walk back to pick up. The place wasn’t horrible by any means but Ron needed a place dull enough for what he was about to do. Thankfully there weren't many patrons that day.

Hermione arrived half an hour late and when she walked in she seemed to realise this wasn’t the sort of place you really  _ book in  _ to.

She was barely out of her healer robes when she sat down across from him.

“You've already eaten?”

Ron didn’t even bother to nod, the empty plate in front of him had been purposeful. A little drop of disappointment to ease her into the next.

“I know i'm late but seriously? You have no idea how busy my ward has been lately.”

He faced the window. “You're right, I really don't.”

She seemed to pick up on his sombre tone. “Ron—What is this about?”

He sighed.  _ This is it _ . He needed to bite the bullet and face her. He analysed her face, her eyes. They were dark brown and un-amused. He used to love her for that, she was so stubborn and knowledgeable. He used to think she was special, and perhaps she was. He’d thought a lot about why he had liked her so much. For a long time she was the most powerful and prominent of crushes he’d ever had.

There were others of course, Lavender and himself may not have ended on the best of terms and the brightest of feelings but at the start he  _ had  _ actually liked her, and though he had fought against the notion the twins jokes about Krum had actually been based in some deeper truth.

Hermione had been different from them, She was his friend, one his best friends. Constantly around since he was eleven. She was a constant.

Ron didn’t think he was a constant. He didn't think he was even  _ Ron  _ anymore—Not the one she had loved, and not the one that had loved her.

_ This is it. _

_ “ _ I— _ Hermione _ I want a divorce.” 

If there was an answer she was expecting, He didn’t think that was it.

“ _ What?”  _ She looked baffled.

“I want a divorce...” he repeated in a tone like she hadn’t heard.

“No I heard—” She leaned her elbows on the table in a prayer-like pose. “Where is this coming from?”

He had an entire list planned out in his head.

“You were late.” he blurted out.

She looked even more concerned. “You want to divorce me… because I was late for dinner?”

He didn’t back track. “You're always working, I sleep alone most nights. I have dinner by myself. We've spent more time together at funerals and St Mungos visits than home or out.”

“I could always take time off!” She reasoned.

He didn’t want to argue points. He just wanted her to know  _ why _ . “I can’t name one hobby you have that isn’t rooted in societal change. I don’t even know if we have anything on common any more  _ and! _ —”

He felt himself get heated the more he spoke so he didn’t voice the last reason. He’d never even recognised it within himself but now it seemed all to  _ Important. _

Hermione’s confusion seemed to morph into defence.

“What! And  _ what _ Ron?”

He scowled. “— _ And you don't even want kids _ !”

The confusion was back. “ _ When _ have you ever wanted kids!”

“I’m a Weasley Hermione!”

It was an odd counter point. The Weasley kids thing wasn’t even that accurate within his immediate family. Percy was career driven and most likely gay, Bill had fostered a few teenagers in the past but hadn’t wanted his fucked-up-ness to be passed down. George he couldn't say and Ginny was too all over the shop for kids.

The nurturing thing had really only been passed down to himself and Charlie,  _ and  _ Charlie filled that void with dragons.

Ron hadn’t known he wanted kids, never really thought about it. He just thought it was obvious. Then Hermione had offhandedly said she detested the idea towards his great uncle on their wedding day and he'd never brought it up.

He hadn’t wanted children back then so it was fine. He didn’t really even want them  _ now _ or in five to ten years. But if he didn’t divorce Hermione now he knows eventually he’d blame her and become bitter about it.

“Ron let’s talk about this. I know things have been difficult lately but—But!”

He hated to see her plea. And he didn’t want to break her heart but his actions already had.

“I’m not in love with you anymore.”

She stilled. “ _ Oh _ .”

His breath shook for the first time that night. “I’m _sorry_.” He truly was. For a lot of things. He wondered if he’d have told her about Draco if it wasn't also Draco's secret to tell. He reckons maybe he would have.

She shook. “Is there someone else?”

He stilled. “I’m not leaving you  _ for _ anyone Hermione. I just need to leave.” It technically wasn’t a lie.

There was silence for a moment. Hermione seemed to put herself back together in that moment. She was good at that. 

“Who's going to tell Harry?”

He almost smiled. They both knew Harry hated change, he’ll also hate the person who caused the change. “You can, I don’t think he’ll be to happy with it coming from me.”

“Where will you go?”

“I’ve got a muggle Motel ready for a few weeks, I’ll sort something out after that. I’m thinking of leaving London for a while, I’m thinking of leaving the  _ country _ for a while but who knows.”

“When are you going to pack up your stuff then?”

He exhaled. “I packed up today…”

She looked downwards. “You really planned this huh?”

He didn’t reply.

She gulped. “Ron are—Are we still going to be friends after this?”

He was taken aback for a moment. He’d thought she’d be so angry she wouldn’t want to see him. In hindsight they’ve gone through things worse than a divorce. He’s going to miss her, but he was always missing her anyway.

‘I don't know…” his own words sunk into his brain. He didn’t know if he could forgive her for their fucked up relationship. Didn’t know if he could live with himself knowing how he betrayed her. Didn’t know if she’d ever forgive him if she found out.

“ _ I don't know _ .” He repeated again. “I—”

He couldn't finish his sentence. No matter how much he prepared for this his facade fell. His chin wobbled and a great  _ tremor _ took over him. He looked away in shame as his face turned red. In an instant he felt the tears threaten to fall as he sniffled quietly.

He was  _ letting go _ , and he didn’t know for how long. It was only when his cheeks were covered in tears did he notice the  _ soft hiccups _ coming from across the table.

They both cried for what felt like hours. Let themselves for just this moment fall into the grief of the situation as they realised that they had just lost each other. Not to a dark wizard or beast, but to something just as gut wrenching but mundane and it hurt.

Hermione and Ron broke down together. And maybe that’s the last thing  _ they _ ’d ever do with each other. She wiped her eyes and looked at the time.

“I need to go…” Her voice was deep with regret.

His words were intoxicated in sorrow. “I know.”

* * *

Ron was feeling reckless. He’d recently balled his eyes out and left his wife. He’d never felt more  _ free _ , and he’d never felt more  _ alone _ . He wanted company, he wanted to treat himself to something he’d never done before. Then a thought happened to pop into his head. He probably should have thought it through more but i woke up with intention the next day with the idea glued to his brain.

This is how he found himself at the muggle motels closest animal shelter at almost ten o'clock in the morning. He’d braced himself as he walked in, he really only wanted to have a look.

A young volunteer looked him up and down before nodding to herself. He hadn’t spoken less than a few words before she took him to the animals.

She seemed to know where she wanted him to go, she pulled him past the kittens, cats and puppies and led him straight to the back area.

She started to point them out. “That little shite over there is Russell, a bit hyperactive that one.”

Ron leaned over the pen and found a Jack Russell Terrier that resembled his old patronus a little _too_ much. The dog was attempting to jump up as another dog ran around excitedly.

The girl pointed to the running dog. “That one use to be a sheep dog. We call him Dash.”

Ron looked at the over excited dogs and backed up. He was starting to think coming here might have been a bad idea, he didn’t think he could handle either of them too well.

The girl noticed this and seemed to ponder for a second before speaking up.

“We do have a new one that just came in last night, hasn’t been named yet but seems to have all the vaccines and medical treatments… wanna see him?”

Ron huffed then shrugged. “Sure why not.”

She took out a set of keys and brought him into the back room. In the corner of it was a pen. Ron expected to hear exited barking from an untrained stray but the room was silent. The girl pushed him towards the pen encouraging him to look over.

Inside the pen were many pillows and blankets but sitting calmly in the middle of it was a rather large white dog. His posture was lazy and he didn’t even blink as he looked over Ron.

The volunteer leaned over to pet the dogs long white snout. “He doesn’t seem to really get long with other dogs but he’s good with people.”

Ron let his hands run through the fur. None of it was matted and Ron didn’t know why anyone would give up a dog like this.

“What breed is he?”

“Borzoi, most people just call them Russian wolfhounds though.

Ron didn’t even wait a few more minutes. He knew his decision the moment he saw the dog. “I’ll take him.”

The girl grinned like she’d won game.

The adoption fees were a tad expensive and the form he had to fill out took longer than he’d assume but he couldn’t bring himself to regret his decision. Of course he lied about where he was living and such unimportant things but he was fully confident the girl would have let him take the dog anyway, she seemed to know he needed him.

The volunteer nodded at her own papers.

“Okay one last thing—What's his name?”

Ron looked down at the dog. It’s long snout and slim limbs gave it an almost ballerina quality and Ron realised that he reminded him of someone. Someone with the name of a constellation. He thought for a second before smiling for the first time in days and turned to tell the girl.

“Orion, I reckon he’s an Orion.”

And just like that he wasn't alone anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I accidentally pasted this entire chapter into the title spot and it took me like three minutes to delete. I also apologise for the lack of Draco, there will be more of him and what he's going through in the following chapters.
> 
> do yourself a favour and google Russian wolfhounds if you've never seen one! It's like Draco's character bundled up into a dog.
> 
> Also secret (I didn't even like Ron that much until I got the idea to write this~ now I have delved into his character potential and he has become a fave. funny how these things go)


	13. More Happiness Than Initially Expected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Letters, Invitations, Draco's wants and motivation.

Ron had looked after a few animals in his lifetime. If he didn’t count one-off care of magical creatures lessons, or his rat that had promptly turned out to be a full grown man—He could count Pidwidgeon, plus the other few owls his family had curated over the years. He'd looked after Crookshanks when Hermione had started training to become a healer but he’s pretty sure the stupid cat ran away in spite of him. 

Hermione had gone into a rage when she found out. They fell into a full blown screaming match that lasted a sub total of two days. They'd found the bastard thing all the way at the burrow and Ron promptly refused to take it home. He has't seen it since but is pretty sure it hides whenever he's over there.

All this to say he wasn’t the leading expert in dog care, thankfully the volunteer girl had given him a truck load of pamphlets and a scribbled notepad page of how to handle Orion. He found them quite helpful.

Orion was a gentle dog that much was clear. He had an almost dignified personality that clashed a little with the lanky clumsy body he possessed. He also was quite lazy for an athletic dog. The first thing he did when he entered the motel room was hop on the tiny excuse of a couch to sleep .

Ron was pacing through the channels on the small tv wondering where his next step was. Should he find a home so Or ion doesn’t get too attached to the motel? Should he leave the country? He really should check back into work...

Pondering this is when two owls entered through the small window. Ron was starting to get tired of owls. It seemed over the past few months no owl ever brought good news.

Opening to read them his negative assumptions were confirmed.

The first one was from Ginny, the real Ginny.

_ Hermione just told me. What the fuck Ron? Where are you? _

Ron didn’t think he really owed  _ everyone  _ an explanation. It was between him and Hermione and really what else was there to say on the situation? It did make him wonder who has been told though. Hermione was bound to leave his dad and brothers for him to inform but he knew Ginny wouldn’t keep her mouth shut to them. Unuprisingly ROn found himself not wanting to inform them anyway.

The next letter was small, a card sized piece of cardboard. That left Ron suspicious about what it was.

**You** _ are invited to the marital union of  _ **_Draco Malfoy_ ** _ and  _ **_Harry Potter!_ **

The rest of it was the ceremonies details and date. It was to be exactly a week after Ron and Hermione’s separation. He noticed the irony.

Ron clenched his fist. Unpleasantness swelled within him. Ron knew he had no right to be angry but that didn’t stop his nostrils from flaring and the heartbeat pounding in his temple. He pocketed the invitation knowing he’d never attend and searched around for pen and parchment. Orion weaved around his feet careful not to get in his way.

He scratched out a short but decisive message, though somehow he felt Draco already knew what it was. Ron shook away that feeling and pulled an owl towards him to send off the letter, if it could be called that at all. Ron took one last look at the message before going off to get dressed.

_ We need to talk. Your place NOW. _

Ron hadn’t signed the letter, he had a feeling he didn’t need to.

* * *

Draco’s house was empty. That didn’t deter Ron from staying though. He walked in and avoided the living room. Too many good memories and too comfortable for the anger he still held within him. Ron didn’t deny his anger, he merely criticised it.

He found the hardest chair at the diner table and sat himself upon it. He’d taken an unfinished cross word from Draco’s collection in spite of the man as something to do. He didn’t bother to look at it. 

He went through what he wanted to say but couldn’t stick anything down. Draco had never promised to leave Harry, Ron had even prepared for this outcome. But maybe he never actually believed it could happen. One _ I love you _ and Ron’s brain went out the window apparently.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there before he heard an un-confident squeak of the front door open. He kept his gaze up as he watched the blond man walk through the house, looking as if the terrain were unfamiliar.

Draco must not have noticed him at first because when he turned towards the table his face shot up in surprise.

A tiny “ _ oh _ ” left his mouth.

Ron furrowed his eyebrows. Angry at the world for taking away the man he loves, angry at the man he loves for looking surprised to see him.

Draco cowered under Ron’s harsh gaze and seemed bewildered at the show of it. 

“Ron—”

“Was it a lie?” Ron couldn’t help but ask.

“What?”

“What you said at St Mungos. Was it a lie? One last conniving act before  _ you marry the saviour _ ?” He hissed out the last part knowing he didn't believe his own accusations but needing to get them out nonetheless.

Draco was agape but a spark lit in his eye. “What is this about? Of course it wasn’t!”

Ron huffed. “What's this about! I know we never talked about it but this is not the way to drop a guy.”

He pulled out the invitation from his coat and slid it across the table. Draco immediately snatched it up and read along it. It seemed with every word his eyebrows furrowed more and more.

Draco looked up a little mortified. “He changed the date…”

Ron could sense something deeper going on and decided to hold his tongue.

“He changed the date—What was he thinking!” Draco murmured to himself panicking.

“Draco. Care to explain?”

“The invitations weren't supposed to go out until I signed for them—” 

“Draco?”

“It wasn’t supposed to go like this, _is he planning a surprise wedding_?…”

“Draco!” Ron got up and grabbed the man's shoulders, shaking him out of his worried state. Ron felt his anger dissipate as he looked at Draco's worried grey, angel like eyes

Draco looked up to meet Ron’s. “We agreed for five years. A  _ five year _ engagement. I was going to wait a while and then leave him gently…why would he change the date without me?”

Ron started to piece together the situation.

Draco recognised his own words and what they implied.

“I didn’t lie, Ron. You know that. I—I love you. You don’t have to love me back...i'm a horrible person and please don’t leave your life behind because of me I—”

Ron didn’t let him finish before pulling the man in. Draco gasped before falling into him. It was magic. Their mouths fell together in dance, like raindrops falling on water. A perfect rhythm. Ron’s hands ran up Draco's neck into his hair and down towards his waist. He found himself getting lost in the man he had come to call  _ home _ . 

He pulled away only for a second. He spoke in between fast kisses.

“ _ You _ .” a peck on his lips. “ _ Are _ .” one on his jaw. “ _ So _ .” cheek. “ _ Good. _ ” the last one he placed between his eyebrows.

Draco breathed heavily and looked exhausted and so loved. His face was beat red and his eyes were glassy. “ _ Ron. _ ” he breathed out.

Ron squeezed him tight. “I left Hermione, and I'm  _ not  _ going to yours and Harry’s wedding.”

“There won’t be one.” Draco said determinedly.

Ron bloomed. “I want to be with you.”

Draco didn’t have time for disbelief.

“I want to have you to hold. To love raw. I want us to go off together and live and never go to another funeral again. I want us to both decide to want each other. Heart to heart and wand to wand I only speak truth my dear.” He recited the end of an old poem his mother had once read to him.

Ron watched Draco’s lips tremble and his smile widen despite how scared he looked.

“I've never fought for what I wanted. I've always been sought after or ordered. Ron, I want to fight for you—for us. I’m so,  _ so _ afraid all the time. I almost died when I realised I couldn’t be the one to come for you when my  _ own _ friend was the one to take you.”

_ “That wasn’t your fault.” _

“You were kept in my own mother's house Ron. I—I don’t want to be dragged into Harry’s drama anymore. I still love him as you still Hermione but we weren’t meant to be. Were it not made for him, staying would hurt too much.”

Ron placed a fingertip over Draco’s mouth. He understood what he meant, what he wanted to stay. Deep down within him he could hear the words. 

They didn’t speak though. Only let their heads fall on each other's shoulders and sway to none existent music.

Ron tried to keep his eyes away from the time but he knew he’d already been gone too long. He looked apologetically at Draco.

“I need to go, check in closes soon.”

Draco pulled him back from walking away. “Where are you staying?”

“A motel.”

Draco shook his head. “That won't do, stay here.”

Ron didn’t want to protest. “But—”

“ _ Please?  _ Harry has me at Grimmauld but he’s working tonight and I can't bear the thought of you alone on a grime filled twin sized mattress.”

Ron debated this in his mind for a moment. Does Draco even like dogs? He shrugged.

“Okay, let me go back and get my stuff.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

* * *

Orion strutted through the house like he owned the place, head up high analysing the new space.

Draco stood still in the hallway. Ron chuckled at his lover's state.

"Since when have you had a dog?”

“Since a few days ago.”

Draco huffed, his fake annoyance visible in his tone. “He better not scratch up the floors.”

“You wanna pet him?”

Draco couldn't force away his smile as he scuffed the dogs elegant coat. “What's his name?”

“Orion.”

Draco’s gaze lifted from the dog up to the owner questioning.

Ron shrugged. “He reminded me of you.”

Draco melted into a sickeningly love struck face only Orion got to see as he turned away quickly. Ron noticed his red ears but didn’t comment.

“I would have named him Scorpius.” 

Ron barked out a laugh.

Before he’d say that Draco would be an added bonus to his life. He resented that statement now. He wasn’t sure he _could_ lose Draco. He promised himself now that He never would.

Draco filled him with so much joy it overflowed and poured out around him in warmth and gratitude. He couldn’t imagine a world without his hand to hold, his snark to laugh at and his toughness to fight.

Ron had figured them out as a tragedy, he knew better now. They were a romance. An unconventional, morally unjust romance but one enough.

He smiled.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much fluff for such a morally grey couple. Shorter chapter because the last one took a hit on me, were in the last stretch of this story now fellas.
> 
> I cant wait to write the last few chapters, This story has grown so much more than I intended it to. I hope that shows.


	14. He Can't Leave a Letter On Read

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco tries to leave Harry, Fails a few times before coming up with a less than creative solution. Ron and Draco plan and think about what the future hols for them.

Draco was used to being angry. In his younger years anger was as common as dinnertime. There were many reasons for this, but the big one was that he was  _ spoilt _ . He used to ignore the idea but Draco was an incredible brat as a child. Draco remembers the smirk on Ron’s face when they watched Willy Wonka for the first time. Veruca Salt wasn’t  _ that _ far from what he had actually been like. The memory was sour.

Anger at Harry wasn’t unfamiliar either, but at that moment Draco was fueled by it.

Harry had done nothing wrong, Draco knew that. But logic didn’t stop what he felt. Harry was just a man, trying to marry the person he loves. If it was another time, Draco would have done anything to follow through. 

He knew he couldn’t though, it wouldn’t be fair on Harry… and it wouldn’t be fair on Ron.

He didn’t want to break Harry's heart. He just wanted to be with Ron _more_.

Harry couldn’t make Draco flush like Ron could. He couldn't embrace him with magic, or do the muggle things like watch movie after movie with him. He would never want to travel the world or even leave Britain and… he would never say a  _ dog _ reminded him of him.

Draco was a cynical person, even when his heart belonged to Harry there was this overwhelming dread that they would never truly be. A small part of him thought Harry would fall out of love or  _ die _ . Of course he never pictured he’d be the one deciding to leave. 

Draco _can’t_ picture dread with Ron. He can imagine awkward conversations and angry letters but he can’t imagine separation. 

Maybe love was blinding him. _He didn’t think so_.

Draco took a moment to imagine what a life would be like with Ron. He smiled at the thoughts of sunbathing on foreign beaches with ice cream melting down a cone and a wet sand covered Orion shaking water over them. 

He imagines dragging Ron into a massive library and going through books he’ll never read while Ron watches muggles use the computers. Dreams up scenarios of fancy restaurants and hole in the wall dinners. Getting lost on public transport and surrounding themselves with the new. He wants it all. With and only with Ron.

He has to leave Harry. He can’t wait any longer

* * *

The first time Draco tried turned into an utter disaster. He left the house with determination. Ron had looked sympathetic and wished him luck.

Draco stopped before walking out. “Oh! By the way, do you know how to take down wards?”

Ron raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. Why?”

“Harry set up the ones on this house…They let himself, you, Hermione and nearly half of your relatives through. I was thinking you could take Them down and replace it with new ones?"

“Oh. Actually yeah that might be a good idea. Who do you want to be let in?”

Draco paused. “I was thinking just you and me… and Orion of course.” He leaned down to pet the dog by his feet.

Ron grinned ear to ear. “I can make that work.”

Draco had actually wanted the wards replaced, but the only reason he got Ron to do it was because he a little felt bad. He was holding Ron down from his new found freedom because he had taken so long to try and leave his relationship. He figured if he gave the man something to do he wouldn't get bored waiting for Draco. It was a silly idea, he knew Ron would never leave him behind but the extra security helped in stressful times.

He entered Grimmauld with little drama and made his way through the dark house. Harry was in the living room with a tea tray laid out and a stressful look on his face.

Draco spoke up. “Harry?”

Harry paid no attention to him as he shakily popped a sugar cube in his mouth.

“Harry. We need to talk.”

Harry put a hand up to silence him. “Not right now, Draco.”

“But—”

“Harry?” a shaky voice came from the kitchen doorway.

Draco almost groaned. There stood Hermione. Her eyes were bloodshot and shiny and it looked like she hadn’t brushed her hair in days. Draco had almost forgotten about her. Guilt rushed through him as he looked at her and he ignored the little ounce of smugness and pride that washed up. He ran a hand through his hair. _At least_ Hermione and Ron were due for a divorce before the affair… Draco and Harry’s separation seemed inevitable but up until now didn’t actually have a reason.

Hermione's eyes flickered to his hand. Her eyes obviously met the engagement ring. He pulled his hand down as quickly as he could but it was too late. It seemed a million memories flashed through her eyes as the tear began to fall.

Draco thought he’d gotten better with crying people, with all the crying he and Ron did collectively. But as Hermione sobbed and was pulled down towards the couch he did nothing but still and blink.

“I sho—I should  _ go _ .”

No one protested.

* * *

  
  


The second time he tried was a little better. He took a page out of Ron’s book and set up a dinner date. Unlike Hermione, Harry didn’t protest a bit and he turned up right on time. Thankfully Draco had arrived early so they didn’t walk in together.

Draco tried to look professional as Harry sat down.

“Harry I’m glad you made it—”

Harry groaned and leaned back against his chair. “Draco—you would not  _ believe _ the day I have had.”

“Huh?”

“Kingley's got me working on Ron’s cases. I’m doing all the work and he won't even tell me where the twat is! It's bull! You think you know a guy and then off he goes ruining everything. I swear if he even has the _ nerve _ to show up to our wedding.”

Draco fidgeted in his chair. “Harry—”

“— _ And _ ! He has the gall to leave Hermione! How can he just change his mind about his own wife.  _ She loves  _ him and he just breaks her heart and runs off without a second word to anyone. Who does that?”

Draco stills. He can’t move. He can’t speak. No words leave him but they don't have to. 

Harry doesn’t seem to notice as he continues to complain about the man Draco loves. Draco finds himself nodding at words he can’t hear anymore. He mechanically points at a random dish on the menu when a waiter comes and distracts himself by picking at his crab platter. He forgets for a moment what kind of food it is and accidentally takes a large bite of the leg. The shell crunches and cuts at his inner cheek but he doesn’t speak up.

Harry tries to take him back to Grimmauld but he covers his mouth and mutters a half believable excuse about visiting his mother and walks off. He enters his home with a mouth full of blood and a hard, frightened face.

Ron notices immediately. After he helps wash out his mouth and has him comfortable on the couch they start to talk about what happened.

Ron sighs. “I’m sorry Draco. I can’t imagine…”

Draco laughs at that. “Ron, you literally just ended your relationship a week ago.”

“Yeah but mine was a long time coming, and I didn’t have to deal with… all that.”

Draco breathes. “I don’t know if I can do that again.”   
Ron tenses but reaches out to stroke his hands. “You don’t have to.”

“No—I want to but. Every time he speaks _I tense up_ and It always seems like the wrong time. You know he broke up with me once before. Told me it was too dangerous because of the press, he came back with flowers. I don’t know how he did it. I’m horrible at confrontation.”

Ron laughed despite the awkwardness.

Draco huffed but smiled. “The  _ important _ confrontation anyway. I just can’t seem to look at his face knowing i’m about to do something horrible.”

Ron paused before replying. “Do you have to though? Look at him, I mean.”

“I’m not going to break up with him blindfolded Ron.”

“No.” Ron chuckled. “But you could write him a letter, that’s how my great uncle broke off his marriage.”

The idea seemed quite appealing. “Wouldn’t that just be avoiding it though? He’s bound to come looking for me and try to talk things through. He might even think I've been kidnapped.”

Ron ran his fingers up Draco's forearm. “You could attach the ring to push the point across. And if he tries to look for you we could maybe, leave the country? Explore the world together? I mean only if you wanted to.”

Draco grinned. “ _ Yes!  _ Of course I want to. I’d go anywhere all long as i'm with you.”

“ _ Cheesy git.  _ You watch too many movies.” Ron flushed.

Draco thought for a moment. “But—Aren’t portkeys traceable?”

Ron nodded. “I was thinking maybe, a plane actually. If they really wanted to look for _you_ that’d be the last thing they check. And if they did we’d already be on ground renting a car in another off in another country.”

Silence for a second. “If they did look…he'd figure out about us then?”

Ron ponders this. “Probably, there’d be no evidence but the facts of us leaving our partners and going off together _is_ pretty incriminating.”

Draco playfully slapped his wrist. “You talk like an Auror.”

“ _Ugh!_ Don’t remind me, I need to send in my resignation letter… _if I haven't already been fired_ for missing so many days." Ron thinks about work before his eyes widen. "Oh shite—I have enough savings for a one way trip and some extra but I might need to get a job.

“...Actually—we might be set for a while, I have some wedding and honeymoon savings I never told Harry about and over half of my father's fortune was passed down to me when he was convicted. I've never used any of it other than on this house and food so…”

Ron smiled. “Rich bastard.”

“You won’t be saying that when I take us across the world.”

“It was my idea!”

* * *

The third time Draco leaves Harry goes tremendously well. This is due to the fact that Draco technically wasn’t there for the breaking up part. He barley blinked twice as he wrote out the letter and attached it to an owl with his ring snug inside. The letter was short with little to no details but he thought the point came across well enough.

_ Dear Harry, I’m sorry. When reading this back you might call ‘bollocks’ but I am. You do not have to forgive me for you have done nothing wrong, for it is me who has faltered. I'm not in love with you any more and I do not wish to get married. I used to, really I did. But I cannot bear to see you keep getting in trouble, I cannot bear worrying if you may widow me and I cannot bear to live and be with you knowing my heart isn’t yours anymore. I contemplated telling you and I won’t go into specifics because you're smart and would figure it out anyway but I want to tell you anyway. I have fallen in love with someone else, they are not better than you merely just as ‘bad’ as me. I won't rave but what i felt for you is true but what i feel for them is magic. Do not look for me, I am decisive but cowardly. _

_ My deepest apologies—DM _

Ron had finished the wards on the house when Draco had finished the letter. It seemed a little redundant as they had packed and would most likely not be back in the country for some time but he looked prideful at his work. Draco grinned, it was strong magic. A little blocky and definitely not that intricate but it was sturdy and Draco felt his core sing with the feeling of being surrounded by orange.

Draco reminded himself to tell Ron about the magic bonds they'd grown later, they had a plane to catch.

Deciding where to go had been a little difficult at first.

_ “Maybe we should stay our of Europe for a while. We can come back in a few months.” _

_ “Not Australia. I went there with Hermone, we can maybe go there later on.” _

_ “What about LA? It’s so pretty in the movies.” _

_ “Life isn’t a movie babe...America though. I’ve never been.” _

_ “New York it is!” _

_“Draco, that's even more tourist trappy—” Ron had promptly bought the plane tickets_.

Draco had managed to transfigure Orion down to puppy size so he could sit with them in the cabin of the plane. The dog sat comfortably on his lap and looked over curiously at the small child babbling across the aisle.

Ron gripped his hand as they were about to take off. “Ready?”

Draco leaned over and let their forehead touch. Warmth radiated between them. He smiled lazily and let his eyes flutter. He would cherish this man for the rest of his life. He promised to let himself  _ adore _ someone truly and couldn’t help himself but melt into his kiss. It was bliss and they hadn’t even left yet.

He pulled back and smirked, he could see the fire in Ron’s eyes and knew his own probably showed the same light. 

“Always have been.”

Ron mouthed the words. He wasn't afraid or desperate this time. He mouthed them silently to call back on the past and as if to mock how scared he had been.

The smallest whisper slipped through though it displayed a certain confidence.

_ ‘I love you.’ _

Draco whispered back beaming. _ ‘And I you.” _

And for a moment, they hugged. And as they did their magic embraced the others and glowed within them. The branches of affection had grown into a vast forest inside their chests and the roots of a great love that had started to form gripped and spread, and in that moment, for the first time but not the last. 

They felt each other  _ bloom _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! this is technically the end of Ron and Draco's story! (for the most part) Ive got a bonus chapter focusing on the side characters situations in the works to add and an epilogue set a little in the future but I'm thinking of making that a one shot and adding the bonus chapter to this fic~
> 
> Fun fact: This story was originally outlined to end with Draco and Harry actually getting married with Draco and Ron's relationship staying a secret affair and smirking at each other at the wedding. They were a lot more vile and rude in that version and the story was going to be a lot more sex driven but turns out I get uncomfortable writing too much of that and the characters kind of created their own story so yeah!
> 
> Bonus chapter and Epilogue soon!


	15. The Others Side (bonus chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What Harry and Hermione are doing. Nothing to deep. Coping and cracking.

Parvati Patil was sitting in her office on an early Sunday morning. The parchment she had been writing on looked orange in the morning glow as she realised her work day was about to begin. Some day’s Parvati liked her job,  _ some days _ she didn’t.

Her assistant Eliza was extra twitchy as she handed her the stories her writers had prepared.

“What's got your knickers in a twist Eliza?”

Eliza shivered as she pointed at the top folder of the pile.

Usually Eliza doesn’t read through the stories unless someone asked her to, and  _ that  _ only happened if the reporter thought the story was too controversial. They had to be careful what they published these days, the ministry wasn’t too happy about the last few editions of their paper.

Parvati motioned for her assistant to sit down as she opened the file. The title was simple but didn’t sit right with her.  _ Harry Potter Heartbreak? A Friends Betrayal? _

She sighed and read it through.

The article provided details about Harry’s disappearance and engagement to Draco Malfoy. It then goes on further to talk about their suspicions about the couple and what might be happening behind the scenes. Surprisingly there were no claims of love potion or any magic like the sorts. No it seemed these suspicions were based in...facts, or at the very least educated guesses.

The most incriminating things amongst the folder were the photos, there weren't many of them but they were enough for a story. The first one was of Draco Malfoy and Ron in muggle mall laughing. The next is a series of photos where Hermione and Harry hugged their respective partners while the other two had their arms stretched out holding the others like a shitty Shakespearean play.

Then there was a transcript, a few words spoken by Draco under veritaserum after Ron’s disappearance.  _ “I went looking because he didn’t come home, He was supposed to come back to me.” _

The last thing was an eyewitness account of someone seeing them get on a bus together, not after the report of Ron leaving his wife and Draco supposedly following suit.

Parvati wondered how one of her writers had even gotten half of the photos. She assumed the St Mungo one must have been taken by a sneaky healer willing to sell a quick buck, but the rest of the article was honestly miracle reporting. She would have to congratulate whoever had taken the time to gather such evidence and look for this story. She’d also have to personally apologise for what she was about to do.

Parvati struggled to fight off her migraine. The story was a mess, it would sell millions. Though still her eyes gazed over Hermione's crying profile. Parvati looked at the hope within Malfoy and Ron’s eyes, And how worn down Harry had seemed.

She sighed. Though to his face she would detest the idea Ron was someone she could call a friend, It was the right thing to do. 

She put the photos and story back into the folder and handed it to Eliza. 

“Take this to my vault. Who else knows about this story?”

“Just us and the reporter ma'am.”

Parvati nodded and waved Eliza away, but before she left she turned around and asked. “What do I tell the reporter then?”

She paused. “Bring her up here for a chat but before you do. Tell them all...Harry Potter is off limits.”

Eliza's eyes widened but she nodded and left.

Parvati tried to stop herself but her mind drifted to the story. She had never been the most moral person and didn’t really care much about Ron and Malfoy's supposed affair had it been true, but she did know that Ron and Hermione's breakup had been.

She thought of her old roommate. They hadn’t really gotten along much during Hogwarts but Parvati had been invited out for drinks with them a couple of times before she’d become a reporter and they’d conversed just fine then.

Maybe Parvti was bored, or maybe she was fueled by that old school girl crush. Neither mattered as she put down pen to paper and wrote out a simple note. A small request for catching up, no reporter business required.

She looked curiously at the note sent back to her. It was the same one written she’d sent but with a small  _ sure  _ jotted down at the bottom, with a polite  _ thank you _ added on. She smiled and wrote another.

* * *

  
  


Hermione would like to say she’d taken the separation pretty well all things considered. She’d only taken to crying maybe half an hour a day and compared to how Harry was dealing with the situation…she reckons she’s fine.

Fine doesn’t mean  _ good  _ though. And good would have been something else. Looking back on their relationship Hermione never really saw the split coming. She wondered if her memory was skewed. The way Ron had described their relationship and what was going wrong seemed like a completely different perspective from what she had experienced. She had thought they were just going through hard times. In the end it didn’t really matter.

Hermione was in a muggle cafe beside Parvati. She wasn’t really sure why she had agreed the first time. The family tried to keep their distance from reporters in the past. But maybe Hermione needed to talk to someone who wasn’t directly affected by the situation.

Paravti was nice to talk to. Better than Hermione remembers her being. She was frank and didn’t jump on the chance to berate or insult her ex-husband even as Hermione complained about him. She liked that. Harry was quick to get angry, the same with Ginny. Parvati seemed to actually like Ron but didn’t defend him nor immediately take Hermione's side. She was kind, but impartial.

Hermione had never had many female friends. Ginny for many years was a lot more abrasive and immature than Hermione and Luna was never someone she could deal with for long. Talking to another woman helped. 

Hermione didn’t like to think about who she considered friends. Merlin on all accounts Ron technically still counted as her best friend… though now that spot was probably taken up by Harry in his absence.

Parvati leaned on her left hand and smiled from across the table. Her presence was calming. She never asked personal questions. Just waited for the other to speak. She had been a little more quiet these past few times though. Like she wanted to tell her something. Hermione shrugged it off.

“I think Harrys getting better.”

Paravti reached across the table and held Hermione's hand enougriginly. “That’s good.”

“Yeah, I mean we've had to stop him from running off trying to look for him a few times but he seems to be calming down.”

“I’m sure he’s going to turn up eventually. I once had an ex live in my attic for a week without my knowledge.” Parvati jokes.

Hermione chuckled. Paravti was a good  _ friend _ . Hermione felt a little bad for using most of her free time to hang out with her though. She should be helping Harry out more, connect him to one of her mind healer colleges. But the More time Hermione spent with Harry the more his anger spread into her. Misery loves company but Hermione didn't want to be miserable.

“Oh dear! I’ll be late for work if I don’t leave now.”

Parvati ground. “C’mon! Five more minutes, your milkshake isn’t even here yet.”

Hermione debated this. “...Okay, I mean five minutes cant hurt  _ that _ much.”

Paravti grinned. Hermione couldn’t help but think she looked very much like Ron in that moment. Not in looks or anything important but the way her smile widened. The way her eyes squinted with mischief as she leaned over the table. 

Hermione perished the thought.

* * *

Harry Potter  _ was fucking splendid thank you very much!  _ He _definitely_ wasn’t in his kitchen, finding the most expensive old china in the house and throwing the plates at the wall. He _most certainly_ __ wasn’t watching them smash, repairing them, and then smashing them all again.

That was a lie. He was doing all that and more. His engagement ring had also been thrown, If he looked he could probably find it amongst the heap of porcelain shards. He wouldn't look.

_How had things turned out to be this bloody shite?_ You’d think after saving the world he’d be given a break from the universe. He was angry and embarrassed. Because of his bad judgement he’d fallen in love with someone who goes and proves the entire world right by still being a bad person. He'd had to break the news to everyone he got dumped by a letter. He had to summon back his wedding invitations! He had a saving's account with honeymoon money just lying in the bank mocking him.

The _worst_ thing was that he wasn’t even that angry at Draco himself. Draco had done so much shite basically everything seemed forgivable in Harry’s eyes. He was blinded by his pity for the man.

He  _ was  _ angry at Ron though. Even before, the fact that he’d gone and split up their  _ perfectly fine _ friend group because he couldn’t stick it out and fix his relationship had left Harry seething. 

But _ then _ ! Oh then Paravti Patil had come in with a fucking bombshell.

They’d suspected, of course they did. It would have been a major coincidence that the two had just so happened to leave their partners and then skip town not even a week after each other.

Harry roared and threw another plate.

“Hey Harr— _ Woah _ !” Neville walked into the room with his eyes widened. “Harry! You're bleeding!”

Harry looked down at his legs, Turns out he very much was.

Neville brought him into the living room as he summoned a medkit. He pushed him down on the stiff couch and began to work.

Neville shook his head as he stated to clean the small cuts caused by the shards.

“Harry...this needs to stop. You can’t go on like this…”

Harry scrunched his face. “What would you know!”

Neville sighed. “Nothing Harry but wer—I’m  _ worried _ about you.”

“Dra—”

“I don't care about Draco Harry! Or what he and Ron might have done. You're hurting and I just want to help you.”

  
  


There was silence For a moment. Harry hugged his own chest and leaned back on the couch. “Why does everyone leave? Why can’t things just  _ stay  _ for once?”

Neville tried to speak.

“—Don’t deny it!”

“...I don’t know Harry. I—I’m here. I know things may not be constant but there’s so much more to life than other people Harry.”

Harry looked at his friend. Neville had been there since nearly the very beginning. And maybe even before then. They were the same but different. Harry wonders if Neville had  _ his  _ destiny if he would have been better. Done something different.

“I just wanted to be  _ happy _ …”

Neville wrapped a bandage around his leg. “I know change doesn’t bring you comfort but you have to hear this Harry. Nothing lasts forever—”

Harry stilled.

“—That means happiness won’t last forever… but this anger won't either. The sadness may seem like a pit but you’ll get out Harry. I can’t promise you’ll be happy Harry—but I can promise to try my bloody best to get you there.”

Harry took in the words. He hated how much they helped. Maybe he didn’t want the help. He looked at Neville's concerned face and determined eyes. Harry breathed.

He remembers opening Draco's letter. He’d incinerated the thing after reading it. He remembers Ron’s tired face at Molly’s funeral. Flashes of Daco's scared eyes flood in and Ron’s jealous mean streaks. 

A week ago Hermione smiled. He couldn’t understand how. He saw her laugh at Ginny’s joke till she couldn't breath. Yesterday Neville had perfected his backpack green house and the pride in his eyes had taken Harry aback.

This morning Parvati had given him a photo. in it he had been hugging Draco… But Draco and Ron had reached out for each other. There was care and maybe even love between them and Harry couldn’t understand  _ how. How had two people so different be able to fall and do this? _

Harry had fallen in love many times before. He thinks for an abused kid he was a little _too_ prone to love. Harry didn't just hold the romantic type of love within him. The familial one took hold just as strong.

Harry had his heart broken many times before. Each and every time it seemed to feel like the worst one. Harry was hurting.

But deep down—He knew this ache wouldn’t overtake him for long. A sting would remain. A mental scar to add to all the others. But this nightmare wasn’t constant. He knew that. Even still he’d delved into his anger...but maybe now he was ready to move along.

Harry looked at his friend now. There was no pity. Just promise and determination. And for that moment he felt all his resentment dull. The bright light on anger within him flickered out for that moment as he just let himself  _ be _ for once.

For the first time in three weeks Harry smiled, it was small and barely visible. A ghost of a smile really but one nonetheless. As gave in to himself, a little hope filled the room. He was still angry, still hurt. But now he could feel his legs. And he was ready to move.

“Neville?” his voice cracked.

“Yeah?”

“How’s the Fever Bush coming along?”

Neville’s lips tilted up. “Gave me the sniffles.”

Harry chuckled softly, and for the time being. He let himself wish again.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendship! short little bonus chapter about what Harry and Hermione had going on after the main two left. Mostly just coping and Hermione being flirted with but not noticing. Oh well~
> 
> Epilogue coming soon! It'll be set a little while into the future delving into what Ron and Draco ended up doing and a little bit of what they got up to in their travels. (I am more than a little exited, I really like the idea. hopefully I can execute it well!)


	16. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The future. Clique happy endings where the bitter past can't reach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a couple days to write and is a little longer than other chapters. Also warning, Children. That's it. children exist and as a person who doesn't like children in narratives that much I must warn, but I think the ones hear are actually really great ~That's just my opinion though;)

_ Twelve years later _

  
  


It was a hot morning in their kitchen. The kind of hot that leaves one sitting as still as one can so as to not cause any unnecessary movement or extra heat.

One would think after their travels Draco and Ron would have gotten used to all kinds of temperatures. But in the end they were English by nature, and the summer Australian climate was not kind to them.

Ron groaned as he dropped ice into his coffee. “ _ One  _ cooling charm Draco,  _ please _ ?”

Draco could feel his hair stick to the back of his neck. He slicked the hair tie off his wrist to tie his blond locks into a bun as high as he could get. He’d come to like his longer hair but maybe it was time for a trim again. “No Ron. I’m not doing any magic on the house until the greenhouse is complete.”

Ron huffed. “When is Neville coming again?”

Draco looked at the digital clock. “Few hours.”

“Why did we agree to live here again?”

Draco rolled his eyes but smiled endearingly.

The question was rhetoric. Ron knew why he was here, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The first few years of Draco and Ron’s travels were mostly uneventful. That’s not to say nothing happened, no those years were still incredibly fond memories. They’d visited all sorts of places. Skiing in New Zealand, touring throughout America. _Certainly_ things happened. Ron had taken Draco to Athens for their two year anniversary, Draco returned the favour with a takeout dinner and the best thank you sex imaginable.

The uneventfulness being referred to was...well everything they’d gone through to get to that point. 

One would think after cheating on their respective partners with each other their life would have turned out a bit more dramatic. Honestly though? They hadn’t seen their ex’s in  _ years.  _ Sometimes they hear titbits. Rumours about what’s going on in England. But not much. Narcissa had been pretty disappointed in Draco but they were able to stay on good terms by only seeing each other around Christmas and birthdays.

Ron took the same approach with his family though he saw  _ them _ much less. Percy and Charlie were agreeable but Ginny and him hadn’t spoken on good terms for a while and being near Fred is awkward when he insists on tagging along whenever Percy arranges visits. Ron sometimes thinks about reaching out. Making amends. But then he sees the angelic grey eye’s he’d give anything up for.

Of course they couldn’t be tourists forever. The path to where they were currently started a few months after they’d moved to Tokyo. Draco had taken to growing plants out of their small apartment and freelance selling potions. 

Ron can’t name a specific date but after a little while one of Draco’s regulars had approached them. Inviting them for dinner and a business offer.

Her name had been Fujimoto Sara. She’d told them she was a part of the  _ International Magical Education Foundation _ . 

She looked a little nervous as she spoke, obviously new to this and a little younger than them both.

“ _ IMEF mainly tries to give an education to as many young magic folk as possible, we mostly build schools and do political work on what should be taught in magical schools and how qualified teachers should be. Did you know there's only eleven proper magic schools in the world? And all of them are boarding schools that don’t teach literature or maths or anything of value for non magical careers.” _

Draco nodded empathetically. “ _ I knew of the scarce number of schools, yes _ .”

Ron had a few questions.

“ _ What does that have to do with us _ ?”

Sara fidgeted nervously. “ _ We’ve needed more people for a long time. People to help build, Start up new schools and supply equipment for things like...potions. I thought of you because of how well travelled you both are and because of Draco’s potion and gardening skills.” _

Ron raised an eyebrow. “ _ So—Why am I here _ ?”

“ _ You helped in the rebuilding of Hogwarts after your war, did you not? Not to mention new schools will need strong wards, or how the amount of magicians that live so intertwined between magical and muggle worlds are a few of many, people like you could really help the next generation. I thought you both could be useful to our foundation. Please contact me if you're interested.” _

The first school they helped build was a small one not too far from where they were living. Draco helped set up greenery and helped out in potions lessons. He’d also helped with campaigns for the foundation and helped write speeches for Sara to speak at international magical board meetings. 

Ron helped with building. Draco had once told him he had a knack for ‘ _ blocky _ ’ magic. Spells that were strong but simple, like cooking spells or building and management magic. He hadn’t been sure if it had been a complement or not but when he’d been able to fully elevate an entire greenhouse he’d understood.

He’d also been in charge of making sure the place passed off as a normal high school. It had been hard work but fun. The place was a lot like Hogwarts but nothing like it at all. It looked like a normal private school where local magic kids could go and at the end of the day, go home. No castle in the middle of nowhere.

They’d bounced around the globe for a while. Helping out on whatever projects Sara approached them about. They’d once spent almost an entire year trying to fill the state of Texas with as many small magic schools as they could, they hadn't the time to form connections with the students like the past years but it had been nice to see the numbers rise.

But they had missed the localisation. Forming proper connections on personal levels. So Draco had an idea, and they decided to do  _ one _ more school. One more until they found their forever home, and actually settled down.

That was five years ago.

Draco and Ron didn’t live too far from the last school, the one they still worked at. Their house was perched on a nice roundabout street with a mix of muggle and magic neighbours, they were content. Well mostly content, seeing as  _ someone _ had decided to build a greenhouse and forbid cooling charms.

Screaming echoed throughout the house. Draco groaned this time.

A young girl's voice quickly followed. “Scorpius is awake!”

Draco yelled out. “Can you check on him?”

“ _ Why do I have to _ !”

Draco was about to yell back when Ron interfered. “Don’t worry, I will!”

Draco looked sympathetically at him. “You're too soft on her.”

Ron chuckled as he left the room. “It's fine, she’s just been going through it at the moment.”

Draco shrugged and went to follow.

* * *

Draco was standing in the kitchen making a bottle when he heard a knock on the door. He was still for a moment before he called out to his love.

“Ron, can you get the door?”

Ron leaned out of one of the bedrooms to put his head into the hallway. His cheek was red with a small hand print as if he had been slapped. He held a small blue shirt in his hand and his hair was a mess. He looked into the room and back out before giving up on whatever he had been doing and walked towards the front door.

Draco purposely drowned out the noises of greetings at the door that were bound to be awkward and continued with what he had been doing.

He turned around and saw a curly dark blond standing still as stone. Surprisingly Neville wasn’t staring at Draco.

The man’s eyes were wide as he spoke. “You've a babe…”

Draco’s eyes turned to who the man had referred to. 

Scorpius was babbling in his highchair next to Draco. The smaller blond, grey eyed child was blissfully unaware of the eyes on him. Draco smiled at his son before positioning the baby bottle towards him. The hungry little baby cooed before snatching the bottle away.  _ The independent little shite  _ Draco thought proudly.

Ron walked in and patted Neville on the shoulder like they hadn’t just seen each other for the first time in twelve years. “The little one’s Scorp, he’ll be two in a couple o’ months!” He announced like his son had won a medal.

Neville still seemed shocked. “You two—have a kid  _ together _ ?”

Ron rolled his eyes. “Well we're in a relationship so  _ yeah _ .”

Draco considered his _basically_ husband. “You didn’t tell him?”

Ron picked up his son who’d been attempting to leave the chair. “Was I supposed to? What would I even say?  _ Hey mate! Haven't seen you in years because I betrayed our friend and went off, please come and help my dear with plants! Oh and by the way I have children! _ ”

Draco couldn’t help but chuckle a little before taking Scorpius and going over to place him in his play crib. 

Neville seemed to watch their conversation like a tennis match before catching up with the conversation. He nodded before blanking again. “—Wait. Did you say children?”

As if on cue Neville's legs were pushed aside as much smaller people came into the kitchen. Two small brown skinned boys who looked about four and had the same face bumble in clumsily, ignoring the visitor and opening the fridge curiously. One of the boys had his curls in a small grey hair tie and the other didn't have a shirt on.

Ron rolled his eyes. “Sorry about them, introduce yourselves boys.” He closed the fridge on them.

The two kids, obviously twin boys, looked Neville up and down. They grinned towards each other as the shirtless one stepped forwards with his hand out for a handshake. 

“I’m Riel sir! Nice to meet you.”

Neville shook the kids hand as he noticed the other boy seemed to have opened the freezer and had a tub of ice cream clutched in his arms. "I'm Neville..."

Ron seemed to notice as well and reached out to grab the tub. “Riel! Stop that!”

The two boys looked at each other with wide eyes. “Abort!”

Ron only sighed as Riel dropped the ice cream and ran after his brother. “ _ Merlin _ twins.”

Neville was again confused. “I thought the shirtless one was Riel?”

Ron waved his hands. “Nah they just do that. The distraction was Anton, The little thief was Riel.”

Neville huffed as he finally walked into the kitchen and found himself a seat. “So… three kids huh?”

Draco entered once more. “Four.”

“Four?”

Ron smiled and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Athena—Fourteen. Don’t think she’ll come out here though, she’s been a little pushy lately.”

“Merlin, you have a whole litter.” Neville rubbed his temple.

Ron laughed. “Don’t worry, well be out of your hair in a few. I’m taking them out for the day. It’ll just be you, Draco and Scorp.”

Neville nodded, then caught the last part. “Yeah oka—wait  _ what _ ?”

* * *

  
  


Draco hadn’t particularly wanted to work with Neville for his greenhouse. It seemed with most men from his childhood it was just bad incident after bad incident. But he could tell after all this time Ron had at least wanted to _see_ his old friend and Draco knew that the man was one of  _ if not the best _ plant experts in all of Europe.

They’d both been surprised when Neville had agreed to help him. In return the man had really only asked two things. For full control over the initial start of the planting and gardening process, and to not tell anyone he’d come here.

Draco understood the last part. He couldn’t imagine the others would have been happy knowing that Neville was conversing with them.

Neville regarded the greenhouse from the inside as Draco placed his son in the charm protected playpen Ron had made. The greenhouse had once been a small tools shed connected to the house but Draco had spent quite a while enlarging the inside and turning the walls to glass.

Neville's shocked face had been replaced by the look of a professional as he walked around the empty hot greenhouse. “Ron said you wanted this place specifically for potion ingredients?”

Draco nodded. “Mostly common brewers plants, but I've a few rare seeds I'd like to safely but properly cultivate and reproduce.”

“What kind?” Neville queered

“Mandrake, Living Stone, Firemoss and Fern Flower.”

Neville perked at the last plant's names. “Fern Flower? The lovers plant, how in the bloody hell did you get a seed to one of those?”

Draco smiled proudly. “We were in Belarus a few years ago. Some locals talked of it and I’d begged Ron to help me find one while we were there, took us about three hours and a truckload of arguments but after we’d stopped yelling at each other it kind of—appeared right in front of us.”

Neville raised an eyebrow. “And you just took a sample?”   
“Of course not, I asked for one of it’s seeds then left. Found a couple tiny spores in my pockets the next day.”

Neville seemed to take in the story before regarding the greenhouse again. “This might be tricky then, so many of the plants you want to grow need different temperatures to sustain themselves and can’t be placed close to incompatible plants. Especially magic ones.”

“Tricky, but not impossible?”

“No, I do think there's a solution? Have you ever heard of pockets?”

Draco shook his head. “What?”

“We call them air pockets, they're a bit like bubble head charms but a lot more complex. They work kind of like a ward or a dome. Like tiny micro environments. You can customise the inside to whatever climate you need and have it be placed close to another pocket without them disturbing each other.”

Draco crossed his arms. “So I could have a Firemoss next to winter berries without fuss?”

Neville nodded. “Technically yes but not without fuss. Making just one takes ages and we’d need components from each environment to enchant with so the air pocket works, planting everything inside the greenhouse could take a week but you don’t even know how to make one.”

Draco inhaled before walking over to put on his gardening gloves. “Guess we better start then.”

“But didn’t you hear what I—”

“Yes I  _ did _ . I’m a fast learner Longbottom and if I only have you for the day we should really  _ start. _ ”

It had taken nearly two hours but they had finally set up one pocket. The outside of it was nearly invisible but there was this almost fogginess on the inside. Draco’s hand easily slipped through the barrier and he grinned triumphantly as he felt the cool air inside.

Draco had taken Scorpius out of his crib and was holding the baby while they took a fifteen minute break. Scorpius was fiddling with the buttons on his shirt making baby noises when Neville spoke up.

“I can’t believe you have children. A baby.”

“Why’s that?”

Neville frowned. “You cheated on Harry Potter. Betrayed his trust and skipped town. Sorry if it seems  _ so  _ unreasonable to think you've been moving around being poshwads, instead to see some  _ domestic ass _ life.”

“Look—”

“Do you even deserve that? How can you trust each other enough to have kids! You build a track record of infidelity together, how do you know he hasn’t cheated on  _ you? _ ”

Draco had been expecting a conversation like this, but he hadn’t expected a question like that. He’d thought there would be more insults.

“He hasn’t cheated on me.”

“How do you—”

Draco tapped his foot impatiently. “Unbreakable Vow.”

“What?”

“Don’t take that the wrong way, we trust each other plenty without it. I think for a while in Romania Ron had come to the conclusion that he wasn’t ready for a marriage ceremony anytime in the near future. I felt along the same lines but he’d felt bad and had grown quite insecure over the subject. I think he thought I might grow to lose faith in him, I don’t remember exactly how it played out but before we’d left for Tokyo we’d already made our Vows.” 

Neville paused before speaking. “What were the Vows?”

Draco put Scorpius down and pinched up his face trying to remember. 

“Normal ones I guess. Promised to always tell the truth to each other, to love each other for along as the world would let us. We added the never cheating thing so people would get off our backs when they found out how we started, we both know— we’d never betray each other. Being in magic doesn’t change that.”

“You really love him…”

“Of course I do, I wouldn’t have done the things I had if I didn’t.”

Neville gulped. “You broke Harry's heart. Ron left his wife because of you. Why do you deserve this, them?”

Draco scowled. “Do Anton and Riel deserve to be lost in the foster system? Should Athena be forced to live like an orphan? You can blame me for what I did but  _ never _ tell me I don’t deserve my  _ kids _ .”

Neville was silent as he watched Scorpius inspect a table leg. “I’m sorry.”

Draco looked away. “I don’t need to apologise to anyone. I already sent one to Harry when I left him. It’s been twelve years.”

“He’s better now, but he was an angry wreck when it happened. We honestly still don’t understand how you and Ron happened. Even so he’d probably hex me if he knew I was here.”

“Why are you here?” Draco questioned.

‘I don’t know… I guess I secretly hoped I'd get answers about back then and what you've been doing. That or I’d find you both miserable. It would have been nice to see something bitter, would have felt like the world made sense.”

Draco pondered these words. He’d held onto the guilt of what he’d done for a long time. It was still so imprinted in him he still probably couldn’t face Harry. 

But then there'd come a certain point where he forgot about it.

Anton, Riel and Athena had come to live with them five years ago a little bit after they'd first moved. The twins had been just toddlers and Athena had been an angry ten year old. They’d all been little hassles in their own ways. But they’d made the house feel full. Draco remembers how the tears had fallen watching the twins walk into preschool for the first time.

He remembers how proud Athena had looked during her first recital. The red violin gripped tightly in her hand as she bowed. He remembers last Christmas, How the twins had giggled so much they triggered their first magic outburst and started to float towards the ceiling. He’d nearly fainted as Ron and Athena had tried to pull them down. 

Then there was the announcement of Scorpius. Athena hadn’t spoken for a week and the twins had cried saying they didn’t want to move away.

When they’d realised how having a biological child on the way caused insecurity amongst the children they didn’t think back for a second. They’d been planning on adoption but that had pushed it further.

He remembers the day the papers were finalised, the same day Scorpius came home. They’d all cried tears of joy that day.

Draco thought the world made perfect sense.

Draco sighed. “Let’s get back to work.”

Neville nodded gravely. 

* * *

  
  


Ron had learned to drive properly, no more flying cars for him. Athena was in the front seat next to him with her arms crossed. The twins chatted excitedly in the back ignoring the older two.

He side glanced her. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

She huffed. “Nothings wrong.”

“You say that but you just huffed like a bull.” He tried to smile.

“Just leave it Ron!”

Ron exhaled. “You can tell me when you're ready.”

Athena was a good girl. She was tough though, for better and worse. Ron wasn’t entirely sure what had gotten her in such a bad mood but he had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with her  _ friend _ Tony.

They were sitting on a wooden bench. Anton, who had finally managed to put a shirt on, seemed to be chatting up some black haired girl in pigtails while Riel snuck up to steal the girls toy from behind her. Ron was almost convinced they were born con artists. 

They reminded him of what Fred and George had been like as children. Besides the twin thing both sets of twins had been and were thick as thieves and snarky as hell. Then again where Fred and George were thick as thieves Anton and Riel seemed to be _actual_ thieves.

Ron was starting to regret watching Ocean's Eleven with them.

Athena spoke up. “Should we interfere?”

“Nah, they haven't a successful heist yet. Watch.”

Riel’s escape was interrupted as the girl's friend she'd been playing with frowned and grabbed the toy out of his hand when he turned around.

Ron could almost hear the twins yell  _ abort _ before running off.

They sat in silence for a little while before Athena spoke again.

“How did you know you were in love with Dad?”

Ron thought about this for a total of zero seconds. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

Athena had found out about Draco and Ron’s less than conventional start of relationship a year ago and had been angry at them for nearly an entire month. Ron had been so scared they’d lost her when one night she came downstairs to see Ron crying in Draco's arms on the couch. She’d also started to sob and had fallen into a tight embrace between them. It was still a sore subject though.

“Well, I knew who I didn’t love. Really I didn’t realise until I'd been separated from him and found how unhappy I was in my life. But even after I realised  _ that _ I didn’t immediately fall into his arms. We just kind of knew how we felt. It was acting more seriously about those feelings that was the big deal.”

Athena contemplates this. “Did you love your ex?”

“Of course I had. Even now she was one of the best friends I'd ever had. But what me and Draco had was more intense. Like a feast.”

“That’s a gross and shitty analogy.”

Ron laughed.

Athena sighs. “There's—a  _ boy _ .”

He nodded. “Tony.”

“How'd you? You've never even met him!”

“Your friend Bell doesn’t seem to realise how thin the walls are. She talks  _ quite loudly _ .”

Athena curses before plunging her face into her palms. “Why do people have to be so stupid?”

“Are we still talking about Bell?”

“Tony started going out with another girl.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Ron leans back. “Can I give you some advice? I know a really great dad who totally won't kill him”

“Pa!”

“Kidding, But seriously. I know everyone hates when people say this but it’s true. Your young. He’s young. People tend to love more than they can handle when they're young. Tony is an arse, but eventually he'll realise that he can’t handle moving his cares about like furniture. Athena, love is great. But it’s not everything.”

She groans. “Says the man who left his wife for someone else.”

“No I didn’t.”

“...What?” she looks up.

“I love Draco. But I didn’t even know if he was willing to be with me. At the time we hadn’t seen each other in weeks. I left my ex because I was lying to her and because we weren't working out and it made me feel horrible. I left her for _me_ and I was willing to live a life alone if that meant I could finally be happy. Athena—love isn’t everything. It’s sad and beautiful and all anyone ever talks about but it isn’t all the world got to offer. Athena your everything shouldn't be some boy—it should be  _ you _ .”

Athena quickly pushed herself up. Her eyes were watery but she kept her posture straight as she sniffled. A small smile was on her lips. Ron leaned over and pulled her into an awkward side hug. 

“Thanks Pa...I’m sorry for yelling at you and calling you Ron.”

He chuckled. “It's my name ain't it? Don’t worry about it.”

“Pa! We've got to go!” Riel shouted at them.

Looking up he saw that both twins stood in front of them huffing as if they'd just been running.

“What why?”

Anton pointed with a worried expression. “That's why!” 

Coming towards them, Ron could make out a large group. A mob of children coming towards them. They all seemed to have sticks in the air and were yelling as they ran towards right where they were sitting.

Leading them was a small girl in pigtails.

Athena jumped up. “Let’s go.”

Ron looked his children up and down making sure they didn’t have anything that wasn’t theirs before following suit. “Agreed.”

* * *

Draco and Ron were sitting on their couch watching Billy Elliot. They were both spread out exhausted, thankfully Draco had finally allowed cooling charms. The children had gone to bed and Neville had left a couple hours ago, promising to stay for a few more days t work on the greenhouse. Orion was sitting beside their feet. The old dog breathed heavily but seemed content in the cool air.

“The twins were chased by a mob today.” Ron informed his love.

‘I've been chased by a mob before—what’d they do?”

“Heist gone wrong.”

Draco laughed. “At least you had some excitement. I was just accused of not deserving my children and having an unfaithful partner.”

Ron furrowed his eyebrows. “Fucking hell, I’m gona—”

Draco leaned over and placed his head upon Ron’s shoulder. Their hands intertwined on instinct. “It’s okay Ron, we knew there wasn’t going to be a good reaction to being stuck in a greenhouse with me. It doesn’t matter what he thinks anyway. We know who we are.”

Ron leaned into his partner. “I still hate when you're disrespected. I’m as much to blame as you, people just like to hate what's easy.”

Draco hummed.

Ron was silent for a moment. “I was thinking, our anniversary is coming up soon—”

Draco stilled, remembering the last conversation they'd had like this. “Were not having another kid—”

“ _ Not that,  _ I was thinking, maybe we could actually...get married?”

Draco looked up. “Ron?”

“We don’t need a ceremony or anything like that, I was thinking we could just go get the paperwork done? I thought—maybe we could take the kids on a holiday afterwards.”

Draco wasn’t opposed to the idea. He actually seemed intrigued. “Holiday to where?” 

“—England…”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Why England?”

Ron flushed. “I don’t want to cause any drama but I’d like for the kids to at least meet their extended family, including your mother who for some reason refuses to leave England. They have cousins—and I kind of wanted them to see Hogwarts, where we both grew up. Even the Burrow.”

Draco smiled. “Well, we can’t avoid the place forever. Why not? But why do we have to be married exactly?”

“In case anyone starts acting out of order. We’ll seem a lot more put together if we're married.”

Draco fake gasped and hit Ron on the shoulder.

Ron heaved and laughed. “—I  _ also _ love you! Merlin don't know why, that hurts!”

Draco smiled and leaned back once again. “I won't marry you if you're going to be an arse about it.”

Ron rubbed Draco's side even though he pretended to still be pissed. “I’m starting to think there might be double standards here.”

“You getting that huh? How long that take you to figure out?”

Ron looked into his eyes. They shone with excitement and that familiar love that burned Draco on the inside. His smile grew as he rested their foreheads together.

“The best twelve years of my life.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woooooooh finally! took me forever but i finally finished.  
> For clarification: Draco and Ron were foster parents before they eventually adopted their kids. They wanted another baby and decided on a whim to have Scorpius through surrogacy. They love all their children equally though.
> 
> I've really loved this story and I can't wait to write more and improve. (I actually have a Drarry Billy Elliot au in the drafts so that could be on the way)
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has continually read and supported this story, your kind comments have really pushed me to finish this and it warms my heart. This ones for yall~


End file.
